Anyone But You
by triplescoopwafflecone
Summary: Finn and Emma form an unlikely bond and find a little more than friendship.
1. Chapter 1

It was Wednesday, right? It had been hard to read the flyer posted to the wall of the locker room, especially with all the boobs and junk the other guys had scribbled all over it. He thought about flicking the lights on as he walked into the empty science classroom, even though he found the dark a little comforting. Sliding his giant frame into one of the desks in the middle of the room, he slung his backpack into the seat in front of him and rested his forehead on the cool desktop as he felt his stomach churn. That fourth burrito at lunch had been fighting him all afternoon.

Emma's heels clicked against the tiled floor as she hesitantly walked down to the science room. The celibacy club had slowly deteriorated when the president had broken her vows, but Figgins was intent on revamping the organization, this time with a responsible faculty advisor to oversee things rather than letting the organization be student run. Her eyes had widened at Figgins' proposal, but she could not deny that she was easily the best suited teacher for the spot. She had placed flyers strategically throughout the school, not at all surprised when they were quickly defaced. She wondered if anyone would show up at all.

She frowned as she opened the door to the science room, finding the lights on already. Her eyes fell upon a familiar student, and she looked at him curiously. "Oh, um, hi Finn...it's nice to see you, but the meeting doesn't start for another half hour..."

He jerked awake at the sound of her voice, blinking and rubbing the slight dent made by the pencil holder in the desk from his forehead. "Oh, okay," he said, standing, watching her watch his clumsy movements, suddenly feeling very embarrassed for even showing up. The last thing he wanted to seem was eager. "Sorry. I'll just wander around or something."

"Oh, no, no, you don't have to do that," Emma immediately told the boy, giving him a small smile. "I could, um, actually use your help. I thought we could perhaps rearrange the desks a little...maybe into a semicircle? I'm not sure how many people are going to show up, but I don't, um, think rows is the best set up..."

"Sure," he answered quickly, scooping up his desk and another quite easily and repositioning them. It suddenly dawned on him that there would be other people there. Other people who would see him. Other people who would expect him to talk. About sex. In front of her. Shit, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had been before, but that was back when it was just one big joke and his girlfriend had dragged him there.

Emma helped him reposition the desks, the task taking her much longer. Once they were arranged in a neat semicircle, she turned to Finn, blushing a little. "So, um, I'm a little new to this...and I know you were part of the club when Quinn was, you know, still in charge...what, um, what exactly did you guys do?"

He could feel his cheeks turn red. Not so much at the thought of him grinding a balloon against his girlfriend's stomach but more the thought of having to explain it to Ms. Pillsbury. Which tumbled like a growing snowball in his mind towards a little scenario that had her participating as well. "Oh, you know just the usual stuff," he mumbled in embarrassment, looking down at the floor. "Celibacy stuff. And you know. Diseases." That sounded legit, right?

Emma swallowed uncomfortably, forcing a smile. "Thanks for your help, Finn. Everyone else should be getting here soon..." At least she hoped. "Do you, um, know who else is planning to come?"

Finn frowned, thinking about how Kurt had laughed at him and shut his bedroom door in his face when he had asked him to come. And Quinn, well, as brave a front as she put up, wasn't even bold enough to show her face at the club that had made her the butt of too many jokes during her pregnancy. Of course Rachel was one of the few actual virgins he knew, but he was pretty sure she still had voice lessons or something on Wednesdays. He slumped down in a desk, looking up at the clock. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I heard some people talking about coming," he lied.

"That's great," Emma smiled, feeling a bit relieved. She sat down on the top of one of the desks crossing her legs, glancing toward the clock. The silence was making her feel a bit antsy. Looking over at Finn, she spoke. "So how have you been, Finn?"

He opened his mouth, starting to speak as his eyes drifted downwards, watching her skirt creep up the tiniest bit up her thighs. He thought about how whenever Rachel had worn those really short skirts he just wanted to throw his jacket over her legs to keep her safe from the pervy crap that his friends would say behind her back. But with Ms. Pillsbury, or Pillsbury-Dentist, whatever her name was now, he suddenly realized, just maybe, why she hid behind a desk all day. His eyes snapped back up as he swallowed, "I'm sorry what did you ask?"

Emma shifted, following Finn's eyes, looking down at her pale, skinny legs. She swallowed, pulling her skirt closer to her knees. "I, um, I...asked how you were doing..." she blushed, uncrossing her legs.

"Oh you know, same old," he began, looking anywhere except her legs as he leaned back and drummed his fingers in a familiar rhythm on the edge of his desk. "Basketball season's almost over. Midterms coming up. And Mr. Schue's pounding us pretty hard, but you know what that's like."

Emma's face flushed as red as her hair. "I, um..." she coughed, composing herself. "Do you guys have a set list picked for Regionals yet?" she quickly asked him.

"Nope," he shook his head, wondering why she seemed so uncomfortable talking about Glee Club. "Although that decision pretty much happens after Rachel and Mr. Schue spend an hour dueling it out in the parking lot after rehearsal. I can't say I'm involved in that."

Emma forced a laugh, once again looking at the clock, starting to feel a little uneasy. "Are you sure others are planning to come?"

He looked up at the clock as well, noticing that it was a full five minutes after the scheduled time. "Yeah, I don't know. You know everyone's usually so busy on Wednesdays, and everyone rushes home pretty quickly after school on burrito day." Glancing back at the door, he felt his stomach tighten from nerves and wondered if he could come up with his own believable excuse to just take off.

"Oh," Emma frowned, feeling increasingly uneasy. "Since you're here already, we could start, and, you know, see if anyone else shows up." She held onto her futile hope that more than one student would show up.

Finn nodded, watching her legs nervously swing a little off the edge of the desk as he reached to unzip his backpack. "Sure." He pulled out his geometry notebook. "Do I like, need to take notes or something?"

"Um, only if you'd like," she bit her lip, wondering what in the world she was going to talk about with just Finn. "We can keep this pretty casual," she assured him.

He pulled a pen out of his back pocket, looking up, waiting for her to speak. "Well what did, uh, you have planned?" He asked, trying to sound casual. Right, he thought, because talking about sex with a teacher was completely casual. Jesus, was she really gonna talk about sex?

"Well, um...I thought I'd begin by seeing if you had any questions first," she gulped, feeling just as uneasy as Finn looked. What had she been thinking, getting herself into this? Perhaps she was the purest teacher in the school, but that didn't make her equipped to talk to teens about it.

"Questions?" he frowned, staring down at the blank lines of his notebook paper. Of course he had questions. A million questions. But he had learned a long time ago that opening his mouth about anything just made him feel stupid. He looked up, noticing how nervous she looked and feeling a tug of sympathy for her since nobody else had even bothered to show up. "Questions about sex?" he asked. "Or not having sex."

Just hearing the word sex had Emma blushing again. "Either," she managed to whisper. "We can, you know, talk about anything that's on your mind, and then we'll talk about viewing it from celibate standpoint..."

_Well it would be a lot easier if you'd get down from the desk_, he thought, suddenly appreciating how her red hair fell in just the right spots, like the angles and swirls he had scribbled mindlessly in his geometry notebook. Not that the sight of her didn't raise a few questions as well. He wondered when he was ever going get another opportunity to just say what he was thinking.

"Okay, well, I guess I was wondering what the big deal about celibacy is. I mean I've already had sex, well technically only once if you don't count the hot tub or that time I touched Rachel's boobs so if I'm not a, you know," he looked down at the floor, not wanting to use the word 'virgin' and seem less manly, "then I figure the damage has already been done."

His response was blunt-but she had been asking for it. And this was what agreeing to be the advisor of the club entailed. She recrossed her legs and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear before answering. "Well, Finn, being intimate is something special. And, well, even if you've, you know, done things in the past, that doesn't mean that you can't wait to make it special again in the future." She let out a heavy breath as she finished, feeling a little hot.

He nodded, "Right but why can't it be special when you're in high school? And even if it's not special it still feels pretty awesome so I don't really get how that would cancel out sex with somebody you care about later as long as it's safe and stuff. And everybody says wait, wait, but what if I get hit by a bus or something? My mom told me to wait until I finished college but who does that? Nobody. It's crazy."

"There are some people who wait," Emma defended herself immediately. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Because it is something special," she stressed. "And there are, you know, a lot of emotional side effects to being...intimate, especially with rejection. If you wait until you're married, you can know you're waiting for the right person who's gonna stick by you. And you know, you can even wait longer. Like after you've been married for a while. You know, just to make sure."

"Make sure of what?" he frowned.

Emma chewed on her lip. "You know...that it's the right person. That you're not making a mistake. Because mistakes are messy and often can't be undone," she flushed, feeling a sick.

"Yeah but I thought part of being young is making mistakes," he argued, too deep in thought to notice her squirming. "That's what Mr. Schue says. And there's no way of really knowing whether the person you're sleeping with is gonna be out to be a total fail. I mean, that's life. And isn't like, the whole sex thing, a part of how you figure out if it's the right person in the first place? How you figured out your husband was the right person?"

Emma's eyes widened and she lowered her gaze to look at her feet, swinging them aimlessly as her anxiety increased. "Well, um, you know, marriage is special. Yes, very special...and, um, since it's so special many people can just tell that their spouse is going to be the right person. Even before, you know, they do things...just because their love is so special...is this making any sense?" Emma paused for a breath.

He let out an uneasy laugh, trying to break the awkwardness. "Um, not really. Sorry."

Emma sighed, her breath coming out in a frustrated huff. "What I'm trying to say is...well...that, um, intimacy isn't everything in a relationship," she let out her breath, feeling a little more at ease as she gathered her thoughts.

Nodding, he tried to encourage her a little, feeling her frustration with his confusion. "You're right. That makes a lot of sense. Thanks for clearing that up."

Emma looked at the clock, positive that no one else would be showing up. She sighed. "Thanks for coming today, Finn. It means a lot, you know, that you did..." she gave him a small smile, quickly offering, "and if you ever want to talk more, feel free to stop by my office anytime."

"Sure," he replied, flipping his notebook shut and throwing it in his backpack. He smiled as he watched her walk out of the room, wondering how she could make him feel better and confuse him all at the same time. It must've been a girl thing.

* * *

_A/N: Welcome to our guilty pleasure ship. This started out as us just being bored and playing around with crack ships, but we're obsessed now. So yes, there are two of us writing, so excuse any choppiness. We hope you enjoy reading this as much as we've enjoyed writing it._

_K&K_


	2. Chapter 2

It was a dreary sort of day that left Emma feeling tired and drained as she watched the gray sky out of her office window. It had been a slow morning, and in her boredom, she had begun to reorganize the items in her desk. She was lining up her pens by color when she heard a soft knock on her door.

He smiled a little in relief as she motioned him to come in. After throwing his wet backpack in the chair beside him, he twisted the bottom of his t-shirt between his big hands, wringing out the water into a small brown puddle on the floor. "It's really coming down out there."

Emma's eyes widened, coughing uncomfortably as she watched the puddle spread, making a mess on her clean white floor. She licked her lips, doing her best to ignore the situation.

"What can I do for you today, Finn?" She was more than a little surprised to see the boy voluntarily visiting her office.

His eyes followed the path from her own back to the mess he had made on the floor. "Crap, I'm sorry I forgot that you were," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "not crazy about mud and stuff. I can go get some paper towels or something." He reached into his pockets, wondering if he still had a few Taco Bell napkins left over from last night but pulled out a small piece of fuzz instead and frowned.

"Oh, it's no big deal," she smiled, finding his efforts charming. "I actually have some paper towels in here," she told him, pulling out a roll from her bottom desk drawer, handing it to Finn.

He thought for a second, tearing off a long string of paper towels and looking down at the puddle. "Do you have any squirty stuff? My mom yells at me when I spill pop and only use a paper towel."

Emma laughed a little, handing Finn a spray bottle of 409. "Thank you, Finn...that's very sweet of you."

His chest started to pound a little in response to her praise as he knelt, mopping up the puddle with the paper towels and then squirting three times at the remaining spot in determination and once again for good measure. He set the bottle back on her desk and stood, cupping the brown, sopping towels in his hand and looking around for a garbage can.

"Oh, um, right there," Emma pointed to the trash bin next to her desk, offering Finn some hand sanitizer as she walked around from the other side of her desk, sitting in the chair opposite Finn, smiling as she crossed her legs.

He swallowed heavily, picking his backpack up out the chair and letting it drop to the floor as he sat down across from her, tugging at the knees of his jeans uncomfortably with his fingertips.

"So, um, what brings you here today, Finn?" she asked again, shifting in her seat, oblivious to Finn's discomfort.

Finn thought out his rehearsed speech for a second, wondering if the curious squint she shot in his direction could read his mind like some sort of x-ray guidance counselor vision. If she could stare him long enough and somehow catch a glimpse of herself pressed up against the lockers in the Math wing, those impossibly long legs of hers wrapped around his waist as he planted a series of sloppy kisses down her neck.

He shook out the image, bringing his mind back to the speech he had rehearsed. "Well I've been thinking a lot about what you said the other day," he tried to nod convincingly, "about celibacy, and sex being special and all that stuff."

"Oh?" his words piqued her curiosity, feeling a little proud that her embarrassed ramblings the other day had managed to inspire him. And he appeared genuine enough as he looked earnestly at her. She smoothed her skirt, clearing her throat. "So what exactly has been on your mind?"

He looked down at the floor, blushing a little as his mind stomped out the spark of the images that had been playing on repeat in his brain. "Well, I sort of have a date tonight."

"That's great, Finn," Emma smiled, a little unsure where he was taking this. "What are you two going to do?"

He frowned, not having thought that far ahead with his story. "Oh well I'm not sure yet, probably Breadsticks or that new Korean place if it hasn't gotten shut down yet by the health officials."

"That sounds nice," Emma answered, prodding Finn to continue. "Have you been friends with this girl for a while now?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he nodded, scratching a hand through his wet hair mindlessly. "It's Santana Lopez. I don't know if you know her or not."

Emma tried to hide her surprise; Santana was the last girl Emma expected Finn to get caught up with. "Yes, I've, um, had the pleasure of meeting Santana a few times," she muttered, frowning a little, suddenly feeling a little uneasy at the thought of Finn getting involved with that kind of girl.

"Yeah well that's what I wanted to ask you about," he jumped in, feeling his opportunity. "Cause I'm all about all that waiting for the right person stuff you said. But how do I stop myself? Or the girl? If she's like jumping on me or something."

Emma swallowed, chewing on her lip. "Well, you can always talk to her ahead of time. You know, about how important waiting is for you. And if she really cares about you, then she'll respect that."

He nodded seriously. "Okay, but how do I do that without seeming like a total chick?"

"Confidence," she answered immediately. "There's nothing sexier in a man than confidence." She clamped her hand over her mouth when she processed what she had said, realizing it had come out the completely wrong way.

His eyes widened at her words. Had she just called him sexy? He turned around to double check that Mr. Schue wasn't walking by or something to cause one of her blurts that had once been the source of many jokes circulating around the school. "Um. Okay," he twisted his hands in his lap. "But what if I tell her I wanna wait, and she says okay, and then she like," he thought for a second, "pushes me back against the drivers seat and climbs on top of me. What do I do then?"

"Well, you've got to gently, but firmly tell her no...be assertive. And let her know she can't get away with what she wants," Emma told him, trying her best to give him sound advice. "But really, you know, try your best not to even get into a situation like that. There plenty of ways you can have good, clean fun." She smiled.

"So it works?" he frowned. "Like all the times you said no to guys it worked? And they didn't dump you?"

"This is about you Finn, not me..." she whispered, her throat suddenly growing tight as she looked down at her feet, feeling a bit flustered an embarrassed.

"Oh I'm sorry I shouldn't have said," he started, leaning forward a little as he gripped his knees tighter in embarrassment, "you know I just assumed, the other day, you know," he shook his head as the wrong words kept tumbling out of his mouth.

"It's okay, Finn," she quickly assured him, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure you'll have a great date tonight. Just remember to be confident in your choices," she encouraged him.

Finn nodded, glancing at the clock. "I'd better get back to class," he told her, giving her an appreciative smile as she wrote him a pass.

"Good luck tonight, Finn," she told him brightly. "I'm gonna want to hear all about it."

He gave her a goofy grin as he stepped toward the door, and she couldn't help but to smile in return.

XXXX

Maybe he should have taken up Puck's offer. Here he was wandering aimlessly around on a Friday night, dribbling basketballs and swinging hula hoops around his hips like he was freaking twelve again. He reached to pull a paintball gun off the top shelf, fingering the trigger and wondering if everyone was drunk out of their minds yet. Wondering if he would give in when they called him a couple hours from now begging him to drive them home.

He whipped the gun around, fake shooting at his invisible opponent. Of course not without knocking his left foot into a pyramid of giant exercise balls, sending them rolling across the store.

The last place Emma expected herself to be was at Dick's Sporting Goods on a Friday night. But Carl's birthday was the following week, and she was at a complete loss at what to buy for him. Gift cards were the easy way out, but she was getting desperate, and she hoped it would only be a supplement to a better gift she'd find later. Sighing, she stepped into the foreign store, immediately feeling out of place.

Emma chewed on her lip, contemplating if she should choose the gift card with the basketball or the one with the football when a giant exercise ball hit her legs, the shock causing her to stumble and lose her footing.

He stooped to pick one up, dribbling it back across the floor when he saw her at the front of the store, stumbling backwards onto the floor with a tiny oomph. He dropped the ball, speed walking towards her. "Are you okay?" he squatted down next to her.

She sat up, still in shock, her face flushing crimson when she noticed Finn crouched down beside her. "Oh, um, I'm…I'm fine," she muttered, looking at her feet as he face flushed deeper.

"You don't look fine," he frowned as he contemplated his words." I think this is my fault. I don't usually go bowling for teachers on Friday nights or anything. Sorry." He smiled weakly and offered her his hand.

His last remark made her giggle. Still blushing a little, she reached for his hand, letting his large one engulf her small one. "Thanks, Finn," she muttered as he helped her to her feet.

"No problem," he said, feeling his pulse zoom ahead of him as she grabbed onto his fingers. And he jerked his hand back when he realized that he had held on a little longer than was appropriate. "So I didn't peg you for the, uh, sporting good type," he joked, noticing she still had on the same skirt and heels from school that day.

She laughed a little, letting her fingers fall from his warm hand after she was steady on her feet. "I'm here to buy my husband a birthday gift," she explained, the word 'husband' still tasting strange on her lips.

"Oh, that's nice," he nodded. "So what were you looking for?"

She blushed, sounding embarrassed. "Um, just some gift cards. I, um, really don't know what else to get."

He nodded. "Okay, you could do that. But what kind of stuff does he like? You know. Like dentist-sports or something."

"He likes watching football," she offered feebly. "It's just so hard to think of gifts get him," she sighed. "Like I can think of so many intangible things that make him happy," she smiled when she thought of how he loved to sing in the shower and how he played his drums-quite loudly-when he was in a good mood, "but it's just so hard to find that perfect gift," she trailed off, unsure why she was telling all this to Finn.

He nodded again, "Okay, well maybe you can ask a clerk or something if they have intangible stuff here. It's a pretty big store."

Emma bit back a laugh, recognizing his misinterpretation of the unknown word. "Actually, intangible means-" she cut off, letting out a sigh, knowing that even if Finn understood the meaning of the word, there was little he could do to help her. "What brings you here tonight?" she asked instead.

Finn paused and turned to look behind him, looking back as a store clerk cleaned up the mess he had made and trying to remember why he had stopped by in the first place. "Oh, well, I didn't really have anything to do tonight and everyone's at this party," he stuck his hands in his back pockets to keep them from fidgeting, "so I thought I'd just get out. The walls were starting to close in on me at home ya know."

Emma nodded, understanding the feeling. "Why, um, didn't you go to this party?" she asked, hoping that she hadn't hit a touchy subject.

He laughed. "Oh I don't know the usual," he pulled a hand out of his pocket to count on his fingers. "I didn't feel like being puked on. Or used as a coat rack. Or a chauffeur."

Emma nodded again, marveling a little at Finn's maturity regarding the situation. She sighed. "Well, I don't think I'm going to find anything here, and since you don't need anything, perhaps we could just walk and talk for a little," she offered, knowing how much Finn loved to talk. He visited her office at least once a week, and she found it refreshing to have the boy open up to her.

_Stop grinning like an idiot Hudson. _He tried to act casual, pushing his sleeve of his jacket back to check his watch only to realize he wasn't even wearing it. "Yeah, I think I have time," he smiled. "And maybe we can find something for your den- for your husband."

She laughed a little, giving Finn a smile. "So how have you been?" she asked. "Things still going well with Santana?"

Pointing ahead towards the aisle with all the football stuff, he felt a tug at his conscience at her mention of the elaborate lie he had been weaving in her office for the past few weeks. "If they were do you'd think I'd be by myself on a Friday night?" That wasn't a lie. Entirely.

She immediately regretted asking the question, watching the way Finn's face changed from his goofy grin to a frustrated expression. "I'm sorry, Finn," she reached to rest a hand on his arm, patting it comfortingly.

He was glad she couldn't feel the goose bumps through his clothes. If lying made her want to touch him then he was okay with never telling the truth again. "I think this is it," he motioned, pointing her down the aisle. "Does he go to games or like to play or just watch at home?" He imagined Dr. Howell's eyes glued to the big screen while she walked around naked in the background.

"Just watch," Emma answered, following Finn down the aisle. "He's more into music than sports, actually. But it's just a hobby. And he already has his guitar and drum set so I wouldn't know what to get him."

"You've gotta watch out for those drummers," he advised playfully, picking up a chip and dip set in the shape of a Ohio State helmet. "They're bad news. What about this? Too classy?"

"Oh?" she laughed at Finn's remark, averting her gaze toward the item he held, scrunching her nose. "Hmmm...I don't think so."

"Oh, wait, this is it," he grinned, picking a large blue beer helmet off the top shelf. "You can stop looking." He went against his better judgment and placed the helmet on her head before he stepped back, nodding. "Definitely a winner."

She gasped a little from the sudden contact, her hands immediately reaching to pull it from her head. But she relaxed as she saw him grinning down at her, her cheeks turning red, she couldn't help but to laugh, straightening it so the two can holders were even. "As much as I hate to say no, I'm not sure how well it will suit Carl," she giggled.

"Carl, who said anything about Carl? I mean it's perfect for you." He tapped the plastic casing with his fist teasingly. "You don't have to use your hands, so no messes, and I'm pretty sure the tube is dishwasher safe." He smiled, watching her grin as the roomy helmet flopped sideways on her head. "And blue is definitely your color. Beautiful." He winced a little after he heard the word slip out.

Her eyes widened slightly, her heart rate quickening for just a brief moment. She coughed, reaching to take the helmet from her head, replacing it back on the shelf, looking at her feet before she caught Finn's gaze, whispering quietly, "Maybe we should try a different aisle."

Finn let out the breath he had been holding, mentally kicking himself as he broke her gaze and started walking back to the center of the store. "Yeah, sorry I suck at picking out gifts," he started rambling. "I bought Quinn a scale for her birthday when she was pregnant and she cried for a week."

She laughed a little. "I guess we have that in common...I'm not the best at choosing gifts either. I'm always too concerned with finding the perfect one..."

"Well I'm sure he'll love whatever you pick out. I mean you're married. That's his job right?"

Emma laughed a little. "If only marriage where that simple, Finn," she muttered, hardly considering her words before she spoke them.

He frowned at her words, feeling foolish for having tried to sound adult but also wondering a little what she meant exactly. "You're right I don't have any idea what I'm talking about. I'm sorry."

"You're fine, Finn," she gave him a small smile, reaching out to pat his arm gently again, letting him know that she was not upset.

He swallowed at her gesture, and realized they had circled half of the store, neither of them paying much attention to the idea of a gift anymore. "Does he know you're out looking for a gift? Seems like an awful waste of a Friday night to me. You should just go home; it's late already." The advice felt so foreign in his mouth and he wondered why he suddenly felt so protective of her. Or her marriage.

"He's out tonight. With a couple of friends," she informed him, not feeling the need to add that she had been invited too but had politely declined. But she nodded as they approached the front of the store. "I had fun tonight Finn," she genuinely told him.

He looked at her quizzically as he held the door open for her. "Really? Yeah I guess it doesn't get much wilder than athletic equipment on a Friday night. What can I say, I like to live dangerously." He watched his hand reach in the direction of her back as they stepped out into the almost empty parking lot but he jerked it back quickly before he had made contact. _This is not a date you idiot_. "Here I'll walk you to your car."

"That's sweet of you, Finn," Emma told him, unable to stop herself from smiling as they walked toward her black Volvo. "I'll see you in school tomorrow," she told him as she reached for the handle of the car door.

"Uh, tomorrow's Saturday," he smiled, reaching in his pocket for his own keys.

"Oh, right," Emma smiled. "Well, then, hopefully I won't be seeing you tomorrow. Unless I bump into you at the grocery store. Or at mall. Which neither seem very likely," she laughed a bit awkwardly, trying to stop her rambling.

"Yeah probably not," he nodded, biting his lip as he watched hers moving. Watching and wondering what it would feel like to just kiss her in the dark parking lot with no one watching. Instead he stuck out his hand awkwardly. "Well, have a good night."

Emma shook his hand, just barely noticing how Finn seemed to prolong the contact as he slowly pulled away. "You too, Finn. I'll see you later." She pulled out of the parking lot, smiling as she drove into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma hated using public restrooms, but trips to the bathroom were always inevitable. She preferred to use the faculty restroom down by the auditorium because it was infrequently used and even just that little extra bit of cleanliness made it that much more bearable. As she stepped out of the restroom, ready to return to her office, she heard the faint murmur of music coming from the auditorium. Curious, she pried open the door, wondering what Will and the glee club were working on.

It was probably his seventeenth try in the last hour, but he was going to get this right if it took all week. Finn bent down, restarting the song on the small portable ipod dock he kept stashed in his locker for occasions such as this. He started singing the first verse of the number again, almost hearing Mr. Schue's voice in the background correcting his moves as he stumbled uncomfortably through their routine for regionals.

Emma was surprised to find only one person on large auditorium stage, and she immediately recognized the large, gangly boy as he awkwardly moved across the stage. She smiled, quietly walking down the right aisle, sitting down at the end of the row as she watched him. He was oblivious to her presence, and she admired his determination as he continued to be persistent with his foot work. When the song was finished, she automatically burst into a applause, startling Finn.

He stumbled back a little when he heard the clapping, rushing over to squat and turn off the music before it skipped to one of the many embarrassing girl songs that Rachel had snuck onto his playlists when they were together. And he stood back up, squinting under the bright stage lights until his eyes fell on the end of a row and his stomach flipped in embarrassment.

"That was really good, Finn," she smiled, stepping toward the stage. "Is that one of the numbers you're doing for regionals?"

He felt the heat in his cheeks rise as he towered over her on the stage. "Uh yeah," he said, swiping at the sweat on his forehead. "It's coming up soon and I thought it needed a little work."

"I thought you did very well," she said again. She glanced at her watch before frowning up at Finn. "But aren't you supposed to be in class?"

The rush from her compliment quickly dissipated as he remembered she wasn't a fan of bending the rules for anyone. "Yeah I guess," he scratched the back of his ear as he squatted down, sitting and letting his long legs dangle over the side of the stage. "But Mrs. Hoffmeyer can't see too well, and I'm pretty sure they're watching some video on reptile mating habits today so I just gonna guess that nobody will notice."

Emma bit her lip. It would be easy to let Finn off the hook, and she was tempted to, but despite their growing relationship, she knew it wasn't fair to play favorites. "You know you can get a detention for cutting class," she reminded him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I have to say I've learned that from past mistakes. But look," he gestured, looking down at her and hoping telling the truth for once would work in his favor. "If I don't get this right, then I'm gonna let everybody down. I just can't let that happen again like last year. I don't wanna be the screw up. If I get a detention I'll miss rehearsal and then be even more behind."

Emma looked down at her feet, willing herself to forget her personal connection with the boy in regard to his punishment. "Finn, there are consequences that come with skipping classes, no matter how good your intentions may be," she feebly answered, hardly sounding convincing at all.

"Oh come on," he continued, feeling her hesitation and running with it. "You never skipped class in high school?" He hopped off the stage. "I'm sure you had a good reason right?"

Emma laughed a little nervously, looking over at Finn. "You know, I wasn't really one to break the rules very often," she told him. He prodded her with her eyes, raising one of his brows. She blushed a little. "Well...I mean, there we a couple times...kids were just really mean, you know, about my...about my problems. They'd lick their hands and rub them on my desk...or put my things in the trash," she gulped, unsure why she was telling Finn this. "So sometimes I'd just not go..because I was tired of dealing with it..."

"Where did you go?" he asked, taking a seat in the front row, suddenly feel guilty for the hours he had spent complaining to her about his own minor daily drama and the rare slushie to the face.

She joined Finn, sitting beside him, her throat a little tight. "The choir room...I remember it was always empty fourth period. I was never brave enough to actually join our chorus...but it was, you know, comforting there...sometimes I'd just play the piano...and forget." she gulped.

"Yeah, music is good for that," he nodded, confused about whether he suddenly felt the need to hug sixteen-year-old Emma Pillsbury or the beautiful woman sitting beside him. "You should come show off your talents in glee club sometime I know Mr. Schue would-" he clamped his mouth shut and looked down at the floor when he realized he had said something really, really dumb. "I mean, we all would really like that."

She blushed a little, looking down at her feet, shrugging a little. "I'm not really much a performer," she said, her voice small.

"And I am?" he grinned, nudging her shoulder with his. "I hold the school record for falling off the stage and I still get back up there. And I've already humiliated myself in front of you today so I highly doubt you could be any worse than my dancing." He pointed towards the piano off to the side of the stage. "It's your turn."

"Finn..." she swallowed as her eyes followed his outstretched finger to the piano. "I don't know...it's been so long since I've played..."

He frowned, "But I thought your husband plays the guitar and the drums? He should buy you a piano," he insisted, realizing he was overstepping his bounds but not caring. "Don't you want to teach your kids someday?"

She blushed again, touched by just how much he seemed to care. Unable to answer his last question without feeling slightly panicked, she stepped over toward the piano, sitting carefully down on the bench, looking at the keys nervously.

Finn felt like an intruder on a special moment as he watched her fidget on the piano bench and delicately place her fingers over the keys. "You know I can leave if that makes you more comfortable," he assured her, standing from his seat. "I'll just pick up my detention slip from the front office and fill it out."

"No. Please stay," she asked, perhaps a little too quickly. She knew she wouldn't have the guts to play if he left, and she found his presence to give her an odd sort of comfort. "And about that detention...we can let it slide. Just this once." She winked at him as he walked closer to the piano.

Emma brought her fingers to the keys, her hands hesitant and nervous as she familiarized herself with the ivory keys once again. But soon, she began to play more confidently, more boldly, as the pieces easily flowed from her memory.

Finn smiled as he watched her, impressed with how effortlessly her thin fingers floated up and down the keys, commanding the most remarkable sounds out of the large instrument at her will. He didn't know a lot about classical music, but he thought he recognized a melody or two from the Bugs Bunny cartoons he had watched on Saturday mornings as a kid. He had never seen her so. . .un-tense (if that was even a word), and he knew he should just leave her to unwind from whatever fears and stressful stuff that always seemed to hang on her shoulders all the time. But he was selfish and couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Emma smiled as her fingers hit the last note, letting the sound fill the auditorium before releasing the key. She turned to Finn, feeling a little self-conscious, yet proud at the same time. "Thank you," she muttered quietly.

"Are you talking to me or to the piano?" he smiled, taking a seat in the front row across from her. "Cause I'm pretty sure I had nothing to do with that. That was. . ." he thought for a second, not finding the words he wanted, "that made me wish I had studied more for vocabulary tests," he nodded, "so I could describe how beautiful that was. You're amazing. Better than amazing. Remind me to not ever play an instrument in front of you."

"You're much too flattering," she muttered, but she felt herself beaming. "And I hear you're pretty good at the drums. Perhaps you could play for me sometime," she smiled rising from the piano bench, walking toward Finn.

"Oh you probably get enough of annoying drum noises at home," he shook his head.

She sat down next to him. "Do you want to run through that number again? I won't stay...or anything...but since you have my permission, technically you won't be cutting class." She gave him a small grin.

"Well I would but," he stopped as the bell ending the period cut through his sentence. "I have Spanish next and something tells me I couldn't get out of that one."

Emma nodded, obviously tense by even the brief reference to Will. "Well, good luck with your song. I know you'll be fantastic," she assured him.

"Are you coming?" he asked, his eyes raising up to hers with the hope that they could spend a Saturday together. Even if it was with a dozen other people.

"I'm not sure yet," Emma admitted, immediately thinking of Carl. The last time there had been a Glee competition he had whisked her off to Vegas to marry her. "But I hope I can come," she added brightly.

He nodded seriously. "It's okay. I understand if you can't. Well I should probably go," he stood, walking over to pick up his backpack off the floor. "And I guess you have people to see. Unless I'm the only person in the school with problems.

She laughed. "Far from it," she assured him. "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite to chat with."

She smiled genuinely at him, watching his mouth turn into a goofy grin in return, resting a hand softly on his arm as they walked out of the auditorium.


	4. Chapter 4

The second Finn slung his backpack on the living room couch he heard his mom call from the kitchen.

"How was school honey?"

He rubbed at his face in exhaustion as he wandered in to find her. "Fine I guess. Rehearsal was way too long."

"I'm sorry," she said, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. "You're just pushing yourself too hard."

"I know, I know," he whined, kicking his shoes off at the bottom of the staircase.

"Oh and Finn?"

"Yeah mom?" He stopped halfway up the staircase.

"Tell your friend she can stay for dinner after you guys finish studying."

He blinked a few times at the carpet, reaching for the door knob as his mind replayed the events of the week and failed to recall a time when he had invited anyone over, much less a girl.

Or a time when the thought of actually studying had crossed his mind.

Not that he had any mind left to cross when he opened the door and found her on his bed, laying flat on her stomach with her bare legs stretched across his cowboy bedspread. Her red hair fell across the open pages of his chemistry book as the sleeve from his extra large football jersey fell off of her freckled shoulder.

"Finally! I've been waiting forever," she grinned, pushing the book off the bed carelessly as it fell to the carpet with a cushioned thud. He swallowed, noticing her pink dress had been long discarded on the floor and lay crumpled underneath her heels.

"They weren't very comfortable," she confessed, sitting up to tuck her legs underneath her as she patted the bed impatiently, waiting for him to join her.

"You're not supposed to be here," he whispered as he sat down on the far end of the bed, his surprise morphing into panic as he heard the garage door open below them and his step-dad's pick-up rumble in.

"Yes I am, silly," she laughed, biting her lip in concentration as she crawled across the mattress. His hands shot up in innocence as she scooted her butt back into his lap. "I'm here to help you study."

"You are?" he croaked.

She nodded against his cheek as her arms came to rest around his neck and her fingers wove slowly through his hair. "Yes," she breathed into his ear. "I'm a very good teacher."

"Ohhh god," he moaned, suddenly jerking his head up off his textbook. He looked around in drowsy confusion as a barrage of giggles shot in his direction.

"Is there something you want to share, Finn?"

He wiped at the string of drool trailing from his mouth to the desk as he saw Mr. Schue frowning at him from the blackboard. Shaking his head, he looked down at his lap and realized that some parts of him were definitely more awake than his brain.

"Grab your stuff," Mr. Schue ordered. He grabbed his backpack and held it in front of his pants protectively as he followed his teacher into the hallway.

Mr. Schue didn't see him duck into the boy's restroom for a few minutes to wait until his. . .excitement. . . had ended. He pulled the blue crumpled note out of his pocket, wondering what his teacher had written on the piece of paper as he frowned at himself in the mirror and splashed a little bit of water on his face. But he knew if he pulled the stapled paper apart he would be in even bigger trouble with both of them. Sighing, he pushed open the door to the bathroom and walked down the hallway towards her office.

Emma sat at her desk, smoothing a stack of papers when she heard a gentle knock on the glass. Noticing Finn, who looked a bit flustered and embarrassed, she waved him in, smiling in spite of herself as he sat down across from her. She enjoyed her talks with the boy-probably a little more than she should've, but she related to him in an odd sort of way, and she found their conversations somewhat comforting. His goofy nature and charming innocence made her smile. Finn had grown comfortable around her as well, and their conversations were not nearly as strained as they had been in the beginning, so she felt a bit concerned as she watched Finn squirm in his seat, looking uneasy. "Is everything okay, Finn?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

The subtle motion of her lips sent his mind floating back to his dream, causing his cheeks to burn in embarrassment as he leaned forward to fish the note out of his back pocket. "I'm okay," he mumbled, handing her the note and praying Mr. Schue hadn't noticed too much.

Emma took the note, swallowing as she immediately recognized Will's handing writing. She read over it quickly, turning back toward Finn. "Falling asleep in class?" she muttered, watching him nod, looking a bit relieved as she stood up and moved around her desk to take a seat next to him. "Have you not been getting enough sleep at home?

"Yes." He thought for a second. "No. I don't know." He balanced his arms on his knees as he rubbed at his face in frustration. "Look, I don't need a lecture on teen sleep habits," he grumbled, "and you don't need a teacher pushing off his class problems on you, so can you just write me a note for detention and get this over with? At least I can get some sleep there."

Emma was a little taken back by his frustration and abrasive tone. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. "I'm not going to give you a detention, Finn...Mr. Schuester sent you here to talk, because it's not good to be falling asleep in the middle of the school day...and I want you to know I'm here to talk about anything that might be bugging you," she reminded him.

"Well did you ever think that all this talking might be what's bugging me?" he snapped, quite loudly, as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I'm tired of talking."

Emma licked her lips, her throat tight, immediately feeling frustrated and defensive, but she kept herself collected. "I'm sorry, Finn," she told him. "I was under the impression that these talks were beneficial...and the last thing I want is for this to be stressful for you," she crossed her legs, resting a hand on her bare knee. "But if you don't talk to me I'm going to have to send you down to the school nurse," she informed him.

"Yeah, that's fine, just pass me along to the next person," he sighed, turning his gaze away from her legs. "I'll write the note for you and staple it. 'Finn Hudson is a ungrateful jerk. And he falls asleep sometimes and embarrasses himself. Yours Truly, Ms. Pillsbury'."

"Finn," Emma pleaded with him, biting back another remark, not wanting to anger him further. She let out a sigh, unsure of how to address him.

He closed his eyes again, waiting for his mind to catch up with his words as he gripped the sides of his chair in frustration. When he opened them again, he felt his stomach twist in guilt as her wide eyes pleaded for some sort of explanation. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly. "I'm really sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No, sweetheart, it's fine," she assured him, managing a feeble smile.

He shook his head, feeling his heart swell a little at the endearment. "No, it's not fine. You've done nothing but been kind and stuff to me and I'm sitting here, practically barking at you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"We all have bad days, Finn," she assured him, glad that he was willing to talk to her once again. "You don't have to beat yourself up."

"I just feel like," he paused as he tried to make sense of his frustration. "I feel like I'm just trying so hard to get everything right and I keep being knocked down by things," he swallowed as he looked up at her, "things I can't control."

Emma was careful as she answered, not wanting to send him over the edge with her concern. "It's always hard, dealing with the things we can't control. And very, very frustrating," she sympathized.

Nodding, he allowed himself a small smile. "You're really good at your job. Like scary good. Anybody else would have just yelled back at me."

She blushed a little from his compliment, smoothing her skirt as she glanced from her lap to his eyes. "Patience is just one of those things that comes with experience and practice," she informed him. "What's the use in us both getting upset? I'm here to help you, not to make you uncomfortable," she smiled genuinely at him.

He felt his pulse pick up a little as he remembered the entirely different sort of help she had been giving him in his dream. Looking back down at the floor quickly, he mumbled, "Thanks. Can I go now?"

Emma bit her lip again, glancing toward him, following his gaze toward the door. "You can go whenever you wish, Finn...but I would like it if you'd stay for a bit, and, you know, talked a little about what's frustrating you," she encouraged.

"I can't," he shook his head, focusing on her feet. "It's too embarrassing and I've already been laughed at enough today."

"You know I won't judge you, sweetheart," she assured him, noticing how the term of endearment had softened him up previously, deciding to use it again.

"I know, I know," he admitted to himself as he looked up at her again. "I'm just having trouble sleeping because I have these crazy dreams that are bugging me."

"Oh?" Emma muttered, a bit curious. "I'm sure they're not ridiculous," she told him. "Having weird dreams is normal, especially for kids your age."

Finn frowned a little when she referred to him as a kid, sitting up from his slouched position. "Yeah well it's causing some problems. At home. And at school. Especially at school," he sighed.

"Well, let's talk about these dreams," she prodded, watching him sit up straighter. She shifted, not noticing when her skirt rode further up her thighs. "If we can understand them a little more, it will be easier for us to decide how to deal with them."

His eyes widened at her movements, wondering if her legs felt as awesome in real life as they had under the frantic movement of his fingers in his dream. Which made his mind drift back to the image of her tossing his red jersey carelessly across his room and pinning him back down against the mattress.

"Finn?" Emma muttered, her eyes growing uncomfortably wide as she watched him, a goofy blank expression on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Uh yeah, yeah sorry," he apologized as he snapped back to reality, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Your dreams," she reminded him, trying to hide her exasperation. "What's bugging you about them?"

"Right," he nodded. "Well they're sort of. . .confusing. And bad. Very, very bad. And I need to know how to make them stop."

Emma frowned a little. "Bad?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, like stuff I'm not supposed to be thinking about. At least not all the time."

She looked at her feet, feeling a little unsettled. "Can you be a little more specific-about this...stuff?" she gulped.

He sighed a little, frustrated yet also relieved at her inability to read his mind. "Well, you know," he looked down at the floor again. "Dreams about girls. Okay just one girl and I know it's normal and all since I'm young and my hormones are all crazy but it's getting really out of control and I just wish," he took a breath and kept going, "I just wish that I knew how to make it stop but it just keeps getting worse. And more crazy. And it's happening in class and everyone can see and I don't know what to do."

"Oh," Emma muttered, flushing a little, floundering for the the proper way to reply, her eyes automatically darting toward his jeans. She quickly tore them away, licking her lips.

"You know what it's okay, I'll, I'll figure something out," he stuttered, feeling embarrassed from his open rambling.

She coughed, willing herself to compose herself. "Well, Finn, you're a teenage boy. And right now you have a lot of hormones that are going crazy...and the best way to deal with them is to get your energy out in healthy, safe ways. With, um, football season over, have you been doing any other sports?"'

He shook his head, grateful she had not prodded further. "No football and basketball are over. But you'd think I'd get out all my," he paused, "_energy_, in Glee rehearsal. I mean I practically have to crawl into bed every night I'm so tired. I just wanna sleep," he whined.

She frowned a little. "Well, talking to me about it is good step to take...I don't know if you'd be up for this, but writing your feelings and dreams down in a journal may also be helpful, so you can try to sort through your frustration and confusion...and you know, do your best to have a healthy, open relationship with this girl...you're still dating Santana, right?" she clarified.

"Yeah see that's sort of the problem," he lied. "Santana is cool, and I've been really. . .careful. . .about not putting myself in a bad situation and stuff. But all these dreams are about somebody else, and I feel like," he stopped himself, thinking about how much she would hate him if she knew. "I feel like it's just wrong. Really wrong. But I can't stop it."

"Well maybe you can try to think about other things instead. You know, make a conscious effort to keep your mind off it. Think happy, clean thoughts," she encouraged, smiling brightly.

He nodded, unconvinced. "How do you keep your mind off of what you see every day?"

"Um, well," she scrunched her forehead, blushing a little as she remembered being in Finn's same predicament not so long ago. "You know, focus on other things...like sports, or friends..." _Or cleaning,_ she added to herself, remembering how her OCD had only gotten worse with her unrequited crush on Will Schuester.

"I don't know," he frowned, dissatisfied with her very G-rated advice. "Maybe it's not so bad. I mean they're just dreams. And I guess if I'm really honest with myself I kind of like it." He flashed a half-guilty smile.

Emma blushed a little, but dared to give him a small smile. "Your dreams aren't wrong, Finn," she reminded him, her cheeks a little red. "They're actually pretty normal."

"You think so?" he raised on eyebrow. "Things haven't been so great with Santana. I mean maybe the unconscious me is trying to tell the awake me to just go for it."

Emma smiled. "I think that's a great idea, Finn. This girl other girl you're taking about-it seems like she means a lot to you-you're a great guy and this girl would be pretty crazy if she didn't see that."

His smile grew twice in size at her praise as he stood. "That's awesome, I think you're right. I know you're right."

His smile was contagious, and she was glad to see him so much happier than when he had trudged into her office twenty minutes before. "Have a great day, Finn. As always, stop by anytime."

"I will," he grinned back from the doorway. "Thanks Emma." He turned and walked back to Mr. Schue's class, eager to get home and settle down for another nap.

She opened her mouth to reply, ready to scold him for using her first name, but he was gone by the time she registered his response. As she straightened the papers on her desk, watching him disappear down the hall, her lips involuntarily curved into a small smile.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for all your positive feedback :)_


	5. Chapter 5

Emma smiled as he belted the last note, his voice weaving with Rachel's as the two finished their duet. She burst in applause as the song ended, rising with the crowd for a standing ovation.

She hadn't planned on coming to regionals this year. Things were still tense with Will, and he hadn't even bothered asking. And after Carl's reaction to sectionals, she hardly wanted to upset him again. But Finn had earnestly asked her to come during his last visit, and his charming smile and genuine plea had earned him the response of 'I'll think about it.'

But she had been sold at his request, and telling Carl she was going out shopping for the afternoon, Emma had driven herself to regionals to surprise Finn.

The applause soon died down, and soon the judges appeared to announce the winners. Emma felt anxious as she watched the kids up on stage, her eye falling on Finn, who was looking at his feet and wringing his hands together.

"Second place: Vocal Adrenaline!" the judge announced, his eyes darting between New Directions and Aural Intensity as he read off the winner. "And first place goes to New Directions!"

Emma let out a squeal as applause erupted once again, her hands stinging a little as she continued to clap. Hardly caring that she wasn't really supposed to be there, she left the auditorium, heading out to meet the club backstage, smiling as she saw them all hugging and laughing as they rejoiced in their victory.

Finn had put down the giant three-tiered trophy long enough to give Mike Chang the custom two-pat guy hug when he looked up and saw her doorway. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him but then her brown eyes caught his. And her smile practically made him trip over an extension cord as he hurried over, practically tackling her in a giant hug as he lifted her off the ground and swung her around in his excitement.

"Oh!" Emma gasped as soon as Finn wrapped her into a huge bear hug. She was startled, but she soon found herself grinning, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting out a little squeal when she felt her feet leave the floor.

"Oh, shit," he cursed softly, remembering where they were and feeling the weight of a few of his classmates eyes on his back as he set her back down on the ground. "I'm sorry I just got excited, and-" he grinned, shaking his head, "What are you _doing_ here?"

"You're fine," she laughed, excitement coursing through her as she continued to grin, letting his inappropriate display of affection slip. "I wanted to surprise you," she blushed a little. "You know, you seemed so excited about it and I wanted to see you perform. You were fantastic, Finn," she added.

"Really?" Finn was practically pawing the ground with his foot as he felt his cheeks redden. "Well I'm definitely surprised. More than surprised," he looked up, wanting nothing more than to brush her hair back with his fingers and thank her the way he really felt like thanking her. He pulled his hands behind his back just to be safe. "Did you, um, wanna talk to anybody else? I mean I know they'd be happy to see you. You are our good luck charm."

Emma glanced around at the other kids, still flushed with excitement. No, she was hardly concerned with the other kids, who usually gave her weird looks in the hall or called her a prude behind her back. She had come for Finn, who was always so sweet, who always made her feel like perhaps all this work as a counselor was well worth it. She nodded them. "I'll talk to them in a minute. But right now I want to congratulate you. You did such a great job singing...and all the work on your dancing really payed off." She smiled again.

"Stop it you're embarrassing me," he laughed, twisting his tie between his hands as he looked down at the floor. "I can't believe I didn't notice you out there."

"It was a pretty big crowd out there," she laughed, looking at her feet, suddenly feeling unsure about what to say.

"Yeah, really big. Hey, well I don't want to keep you from anybody else," he offered, looking around for her husband. "Where's Dr. Howell?"

"Oh, Dr. Howell isn't here," she muttered, biting her tongue. "He, um, is kind of busy today," she lied.

His eyes widened, oblivious to the celebration continuing across the room. "You drove two and a half hours by yourself?"

"Well...yes," she muttered, looking a him a bit curiously. "It's really no big deal, Finn. I enjoyed watching you sing."

"I mean, I'm glad you came," he loosed his tie a little. "But you could have ridden on the bus or something."

"Really, it's not a big deal," she stressed again, feeling a little dizzy about the idea of riding on a dirty bus with a bunch of noisy kids.

"Will you stop saying saying that," he laughed, reaching down to squeeze her shoulder a little. "It's a big deal to me." He looked back over his shoulder for a second. Everyone was gathered around Mr. Schue, who seemed to be giving them some kind of speech. "Hey," he said softly, turning back to her with a grin. "Is there any chance you'd, uh, want some company on the way back?"

She was about to decline his offer, reminding him that it was not his place to offer. But with the excitement of their win still in the air, she found herself willing to overstep boundaries she would not normally cross. "Oh, well, I'm fine, really. And I wouldn't want to take you away from your friends," she glanced at her feet, looking at him a little sheepishly. "Some company would be nice."

"You wouldn't be taking me away from my friends," he shook his head. "You'd be saving me from two and half hours of Rachel telling us her five million ideas for nationals. He gestured his head backwards, pointing out how Rachel had already managed to interrupt Mr. Schue's speech to criticize her teammates on their earlier performance. "You're just gonna leave me here and let me suffer?"

She grinned at him, but frowned as she glanced at her watch, knowing Carl would be expecting her soon. "Come on. Tell Mr. Schuester you're coming with me. I'll drop you back off at the school."

"Sweet," he replied, turning back to walk over to join his the rest of the his friends. He pulled Mr. Schue aside, waving his cell phone in his hands as he lied and told him his mom was waiting out front. Nothing, not even winning regionals, felt as exciting as when he walked back over to her, grinning and pushing open the exit door. "Come on let's get out of here."

"Are you sure, Finn?" Emma suddenly felt a little hesitant as she stepped out of the room with him. "You should celebrate with your friends on the bus ride home," she muttered.

"Geez, if I'm that annoying just say so," he teased. "I can take a hint."

She playfully gave his arm a little shove. "Stop, you know it's not that," she defended. "I just don't want you to miss out on being with your friends. I don't know why you'd want to spend two hours in the car with an old lady like me," she joked.

"I think I can handle it," he teased back, following her out into the parking lot. "As a matter of fact, all the old ladies at the nursing home love me when I go visit my Nana."

"Is that so?" She led him over to her black Volvo, sliding into the drivers seat while he entered on the other side. "I might disappoint you then. I'm not your typical old lady-I've been known to have a little fun." She winked, biting down her lip as she turned to smile at him.

"Oh I can imagine," he replied sarcastically as he fumbled underneath his seat to adjust it, making room for his legs. "I'm sure the cops knew who you were."

She laughed again, trying to remember a time when she had felt this carefree. "Yeah, my mug shot's floating around," she teased, starting the car and pulling out of the lot.

"No seriously," he laughed, buckling his seat belt. "What do you like to do? For fun?"

"Oh, um," she was caught of guard by his question. "You mean besides getting chased by law enforcement?" she kept the tone light, feeling embarrassed as she thought about her hobbies of cleaning and watching the news.

"Um yeah." He loosened the rest of his tie and tossed it in the backseat before rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"Perhaps I will bore you after," she sighed. "I'm really not that much fun at all," she sighed. "I like shopping," she offered, smiling a little, her cheeks a little red.

He frowned, wondering why she cared so much what he thought. "I don't think you're boring at all," he answered softly, staring out his window.

"Then you must not know me very well," she laughed, though she felt her heart swell a little at his comment. "Would you like to stop for some ice cream?" she asked suddenly. "My treat...unless you need to be home..." she trailed off.

"Wow you really do live dangerously," he smiled. "That sounds great."

They drove for a little longer before Emma pulled up in front of a Dairy Queen, stepping out of the car as Finn followed her inside. She checked her watch again, feeling a little nervous when she registered the time, hoping Carl wouldn't bother to ask what was taking her so long. "What would you like?" she asked pleasantly.

He fished out his wallet and pulled out the single five dollar bill he had on him, struggling to add in his mind and determine whether it would cover both of them. "Thanks but I can get it. What do you want?"

"Put that away," she scolded him with a smile. "This is my treat," she reminded him, stepping up to the counter. "Now what do you want?"

He frowned a little, putting his wallet away when he realized he wasn't gonna win this one. Half an hour ago he was spinning her around in his arms and now it felt like his mom was buying him ice cream for god's sakes. "Um, I guess," he looked up at the menu, "the, uh, Oreo blizzard."

"What can I get for you?" the girl at the counter asked, smiling at the two.

"One large oreo blizzard," Emma ordered, pulling out her credit card.

"Will that be all?" she asked, and Emma nodded, handing the girl her card.

"You didn't want anything?" he asked, grabbing his blizzard off the counter. He also pulled a couple napkins from the dispenser, looking around the room before leading her over to the cleanest looking booth. He slid in, swiping a few stray crumbs off of the table with a napkin.

"I, um...I don't really eat dairy," she told him, sitting down across from him, smiling appreciatively as he wiped the table.

"What like milk and stuff?" he asked, hearing his stomach grumble quite loudly as he scooped a bite.

"Yes," she clarified, scrunching her nose a little. "How is it?" she asked, trying to make small talk.

"I'm sorry," he frowned, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Is this grossing you out? I can eat it outside or something."

"Oh, no, you're fine, sweetheart," she told him, the term of endearment slipping out without her thinking. "I just don't like to eat it myself."

"Yeah I feel the same way about asparagus," he joked, scooping a rather generous bite. Half of which fell onto his shirt on its way to his mouth. "Crap."

"Oh, um, let me grab you some napkins," she said, rising from her seat and grabbing a stack from the dispenser, handing them to Finn, watching the tips of his ears turn red. "I always have some wipes...and a tide-to-go stick in my purse. If either of those would help..."

"Thanks, but we have to dry clean these anyway," he mumbled, scooping part of the ice cream off his shirt with his spoon and licking it off. Reaching for a napkin, he swiped at the stain, only spreading the chocolate stain farther across his white shirt.

Emma cringed a little from the mess, trying to ignore the spreading stain. "So do you have any other plans this weekend?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Um, let's see." Finn scraped inside the cup with his spoon. "Regionals are over, so I'm thinking, sleep, sleep, and more sleep."

"What about you?"

"Um, with the end of the school year approaching, I have a lot of scheduling to deal with...and I think Carl and I might me going out to eat tonight," she told him, clicking her nails against the table as she thought.

"That's nice," he mumbled, his mouth half full of ice cream. "You guys must eat late then. I can't eat dinner later than 8 or my stomach goes crazy."

"Late?" she frowned, lifting her wrist to glance at her watch. "Darn it, darn it!" she panicked a little, registering the time. "Would you, um, mind finishing that in the car?" she hardly liked the idea of Finn spilling the stick dairy treat on her seats, but trying to explain herself to Carl was less delectable than that.

"It's okay. I'm done," he offered, a little shocked by her panic. He showed her his empty cup as he wadded up the rest of the napkins and slid out of the booth. "We can go."

"I'm sorry, Finn," she muttered, her heels clicking against the pavement. "It's just...I lost track of time...and I promised I'd meet Carl at seven..." she left out the fact that Carl had no idea of her whereabouts.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he assured her, climbing back into the car. "Can't you just call him and tell him the competition went over?"

As if on cue, her cell phone rang. She gulped as she fumbled with it, flipping it open as she answered. "Hi, honey," she muttered. "How are you?"

As she talked on the phone, Finn watched the road sign for the interstate fly past them as she drove down the street. "Um, I think you missed our turn," he pointed out.

"And I was just-" Finn's comment caused her to pause mid sentence. "Damn it," she swore. "No, Carl...it's no one." She paused again. "Where I am?" She laughed a little nervously, pulling over so she could turn around. "Carl..." she gulped not wanting to have this conversation with him right now. "Okay, okay, calm down. No I didn't go shopping..." she bit her lip, darting a glance toward Finn. "Carl..." another pause. "Today was Regionals for New Directions...and, um, I thought it would be nice to go." She held her phone away from her ear as Carl raised his voice. "No! Will wasn't the one to invite me...I wanted to come on my ow-No, Carl! it isn't Will in the car with me...I'm driving a student home. He, um, didn't want to go on the bus ...because it makes him car sick..." she made the right turn, darting a glance toward Finn again. "Carl, can we please talk later?"

Finn's eyes widened as he heard her cuss into the phone, and he frowned a little when she referred to him as "no one." But as he slowly pieced together the other end of the conversation he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking out the side window, focusing on his confused expression in the side view mirror as she choked out a lie about his reason for being in her car.

"I'm about an hour away," she sighed. "I'll talk to you when I get home..." She snapped her phone shut, frowning a little, looking over as Finn for a moment as she spoke. "I'm so, so sorry about that..."

"It's fine," he chirped, a little too quickly, waving it away with his hands. "None of my business. Only we're uh," he pointed at the clock on her car. "We're like two hours away. Unless you're not really into speed limits and stuff."

"Damn it," she groaned. "Sorry," she apologized again. "I'm really sorry, Finn."

"No I'm sorry," he said, staring straight ahead awkwardly as he was still more than a little confused. "I feel like this is my fault. I should have ridden on the bus."

"No, Finn, this isn't your fault," she quickly assured him. "It's completely mine," she choked, feeling frustrated tears brim in the corners of her eyes.

He nodded uncomfortably, drumming his fingers on his knees. They sat in silence for a few minutes as he stared helplessly out the window, reading the random billboards that flew by.

"I should've known lying was going to get me in a messy spot," she sighed, talking more to herself than Finn. "Stupid..." she muttered quietly. "So stupid..."

He swallowed, not quiet knowing what to say as he finally summoned the courage to glance at her. "Does your, uh, husband have something against Glee Clubs?"

_No, just something against Will Schuesters_, she thought bitterly. "It's...complicated," she sighed.

"Like I said, none of my business," he reminded himself more than her. "If you're in a hurry I can just walk back to the school from wherever you live."

"No, it's fine, Finn," she told him, managed a smile, though her tears threatened to spill over. "Its no problem bringing you back to the school. I'm really sorry I dragged you into my mess."

Finn nodded again and exhaled a little too loudly as he picked at the buttons of his shirt uncomfortably. She sounded like she was about to cry. _Oh God, please don't let her start crying_, he thought.

She sniffled, unable to control the tears that followed. She pulled over to the side of the road, cars continuing to whiz by them as her shoulders shook, each sob tearing through her, the emotional stress too much for her to handle.

Finn sat stunned by her sudden release, until he had regained the sense to reach over and push that button that turned her emergency lights. He let his hand hover over her shoulder as she sobbed, knowing that if he was dumb enough to touch her he'd end up pulling her tight against him and create another mess for her to start crying about. "Hey, it's okay," he whispered, finally letting his hand rest on the headrest of her seat. "Please don't cry."

She trembled a little, feeling out of control and embarrassed, her nose already starting to get stuffed up and her eyes growing puffy. "I'm sorry," she sniffed for the hundredth time. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he said, reaching in his pocket to pull out a Dairy Queen napkin. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"You shouldn't have to see me like this," she took the napkin from him graciously, dabbing her wet cheeks gently.

"Hey, we all have bad days," he smiled weakly as he repeated the advice she had given him not too long ago. "You don't have to beat yourself up."

She managed a small smile, taking in a deep breath as she gained control of her emotions. She wiped her eyes, laughing shakily. "I probably look scary right now."

He smiled sadly as his fingers gripped the back of her seat, fighting the urge to swipe at her tears. "You're beautiful. And nothing's going to change that."

Her breath caught as she was stunned to silence for a moment. "Finn...I...I'm not sure..." she sighed, unable to chastise him for his comment, which was clearly out of line. Instead, she looked down at her feet, then back to his face, rubbing her tears away from her wet cheeks. "Thank you..."

Finn nodded, the rest of his body frozen by the fact that he hadn't been slapped.

Emma shifted, glancing at her watch once again, knowing that hurrying was now futile. She lowered the overhead mirror to check her makeup quickly, sighing at the sight of her puffy eyes. "I guess we'd better get on our way," she muttered.

"Do you, uh, want me to drive?" He offered, watching her frown at herself in the mirror. "I think you've got enough stuff on your mind right now."

She was about to decline his offer-just like she should've so many other times this night-but instead she nodded, knowing he was right. She was in no state to drive them. "Do you have your license with you?" she checked.

He grinned, smacking his forehead mockingly. "Oh crap that's right, I got it taken away. After that high speed car chase I was in last week. I drove straight through a fence."

She laughed, gulping in a breath through her stuffy nose, stepping out of the car to switch sides with him. "Thank you, Finn," she muttered quietly, feeling just a bit uneasy as the boy began to drive.

"Relax, I'm a good driver," he assured her, making sure his hands were straight at ten and two o'clock. "Hitting that mail man really taught me to focus on the road."

"You hit a mailman?" Emma's jaw fell open in shock.

He nodded, signaling as he changed lines to pass a rather slow moving van, "Yeah but that was a really long time ago. Like a year and a half ago. Nothing since then. No mailmen. No dog walkers. No guidance counselors. Like I said I'm a great driver," he joked.

She laughed a little, yawning as she leaned back against her seat, feeling spent from her her emotional breakdown.

"You know I know I'm gonna take a wild guess and say today hasn't been much of a win for you," he confessed, relaxing his grip on the steering wheel a little as he dared a glance over at her. "But it meant a lot to me. You know, having you show up and all. When you already have to put up with me during the week. I guess I'm just trying to say thanks."

Emma reminded herself that this was why she had bothered to come at all-for Finn's reaction, for his smile. "I really enjoyed watching you perform," she assured him, her mouth widening as she let out another yawn, her eyelid fluttering a little.

"Hey, feel free to sleep a little," he encouraged her. "Home's still pretty far, and I'll be riding out that sugar high for a while."

"I'm okay..." she muttered, but her head soon nodded against her shoulder, and she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Finn's figure swam in front of as she fought to stay away, but soon she was breathing deeply.

After he thought she was far enough into her sleep, Finn turned on the radio on low and let his head get lost in the many scenarios where he had imagined being with her. Only this time it was real. And after he pulled into the dark empty parking lot of the school, he turned off the ignition and just watched her for a few minutes, her breathing slow and her lips curving into what he hoped was a smile every now and then. And he wanted to tell her that she still smelled like the flowers in her office and that her nose scrunched in sort of a cute way when she shifted into a more comfortable position. Instead, he sighed a little and poked at her shoulder, waiting for her to wake up and leave him.


	6. Chapter 6

Finn grinned as he hurried down the hallway, gripping his hall pass between his fingers. Getting out of biology had been easy enough, not that he wasn't a pro by now. All it took was twenty or so minutes of intense frowning and sighing and mumbling something to a teacher about feeling depressed, and they were practically pushing you out the door. His smile widened as he looked through the glass, noticing that she was alone and didn't seem particularly busy as she scrubbed mindlessly at the friendly leaf of a plant.

The door to her office swung open, and she wasn't at all surprised to see Finn Hudson walking toward his usual seat, his usual lopsided grin on his face. She let out a heavy sigh, remembering the conversation she had just had with Santana three periods before. "Finn, your appointment isn't until Thursday," she snapped, though it was quite frequent for him to pay her visits in between their scheduled Thursday sessions, and she had never once given him grief about it in the past.

"Oh," he stood, surprised and a little confused by her short response. "Well I guess I can come back later then. I'm sorry."

"No, you know what, you can stay Finn," she told him, huffing a little, her voice laced with acid from her annoyance. "How was your date with Santana last Friday? I've been meaning to ask you about that."

Normally he would have been pretty psyched at her taking interest in his personal life, but as he eased back down in his seat he felt a little uneasy from her tone. "Well, it wasn't really that great," he mumbled. "Like I've been saying I think I'm just going to end things with her and date someone better. Especially now that regionals are over and I don't have to see her all the time."

"Or at all," Emma added. "You won't have to see her at all, just like you haven't been seeing her at all." She watched Finn's facial expression change from confused to uncomfortable. "I talked to Santana earlier today, and you know, just out of friendly curiosity, I asked her how your date on Friday went. To which she replied with a very detailed response of things she had..um...being doing that night with Brittany...and informed me that it was delusional of you to think you two were dating, after, um, only doing, um..doing the nasty once. Last year..." Emma sighed, trailing off, feeling angry and upset as she watched Finn squirm.

Finn's heart started whacking against his chest in panic as she broke down the lies he had so carelessly constructed. Averting his eyes, he looked down at the floor and winced as she rambled.

Her throat was tight in her annoyance as she spoke. "It's just kind of aggravating, Finn, to know you've been lying to me this whole time. I've been devoting a lot of time to talking to you, and it's sort of annoying to know that you've been coming down here and feeding me lies."

He frowned at her words, which made him seem more like some sort of sad project than a person. And he took a deep breath before looking up at her. "Well I'm sorry I'm so annoying. And I'm sorry I thought that it was your job…to not go blabbing everything I say to you to someone else."

"Well it was all a lie anyway so I do see why you care so much," she snapped, no longer bothering to control her emotions.

"Why do you care so much?" He snapped back. "It's not like you have people lining up out in the hallway for a chance to talk to you. I'm sorry I cut into your plant schedule."

"Did you ever think that's why I might care so much, Finn? Do you think it's easy for me, having this job, knowing what kids say about me behind my back...always feeling so alone..." she gulped in a breath, trying to keep a grip on herself. "I thought you were different, Finn, but you're just like everyone else, coming down here to skip class and waste my time."

"Great," he swallowed as he shook his head, standing back up. "That's just great. You know if you were the first person to tell me I was a waste of time and not the hundredth then that might actually hurt. Well you don't have to worry because I won't be wasting yours anymore," he mumbled, pushing open her door. He hurried towards the bathroom, swiping at his face with his sleeve.

Emma bit her lip, leaning her head again hand as her door slammed shut, fighting the urge to cry as he disappeared down the hall.

* * *

She smoothed the plastic wrap along the edges of the plate, checking to make sure the icing was still in tact. She looked down at her handiwork with pride, a plate full of vanilla cupcakes, each with a carefully crafted music note embellished in black on top. She peered down the hallway, waiting for Finn, glancing down at her watch. She had sent a pass to his geometry teacher, pulling him from the class, hoping to properly apologize.

It had been only three days since their outburst in her office, and she felt terrible for the immature way she had reacted. Finn's lie still hurt her, but she had reminded herself that she was the adult in the situation.

Thinking of this now, she frowned a little at her plate of cupcakes, wondering if her cheerful baking was the best way to make amends after all. She had thrown herself completely into the task yesterday, humming softly along with the radio as she pranced around the kitchen, gathering baking ingredients to begin the meticulous task. Carl had entered the kitchen, catching her mid-verse as she belted out Build Me Up Buttercup.

"Hey, gorgeous," he grinned at her, coming up beside her as her voice cut out, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "Something smells good. What is all this for?"

She looked at her feet, beginning to stammer helplessly, knowing that there were only so many lies she could fabricate with music note stencil resting on the countertop. "Glee Club," she immediately blurted, feeling relieved, despite Carl's eyebrow raise. "Will's having a party for them...a victory party," she lied, stopping for a breath. "He, um...he asked if I would be able to make cupcakes for them." Here Carl frowned and she wondered if her lie had been the best idea after all-the alternative truth had her cheeks flushing even deeper.

"It's not like that, Carl," she sighed, knowing that Carl was not very pleased at the prospect of her doing little favors for Will-and not that she could blame him. "It was actually more my idea than Will's. He, um, you know, just asked if I would help him out, but I offered to bake-for the kids. They're all so talented, Carl-and I just want to do something to congratulate them...the reason I went to watch them on Saturday," she reminded him, watching his face, immediately regretting bringing that up again.

But Carl only sighed, giving her a genuine smile. He kissed her temple gently, tucking a hair behind her ear. "Of course, sweetheart," he sighed. "I know the kids mean a lot to you."  
Now, she sat in her office, Carl's words burning in her mind as she continued to fiddle with the plastic wrap, waiting for Finn.

He took the long way around the school, out the back door and weaving through the science wing as he reread her note for the twentieth time, trying to decipher some sort of meaning from his name and the time in her painfully neat lettering. Yesterday he had deliberately missed his appointment, not that he was sure if he even still had a standing Thursday appointment.

At first it felt good, like he was punishing her or something as he knew she probably enjoyed their conversations almost as much as he did. But then it just felt awful and lonely and he wondered what he had even hoped to accomplish by lying to her for weeks. Not that it mattered now. She had been clear that he was a waste of her time and he was pretty sure that the pink slip of paper he twisted between his fingers was nothing but bad news.

Emma watched Finn ambled toward her office, his footing slow and hesitant, unlike the many times he had eagerly approached her door. She looked down at her cupcakes once again, letting out a heavy sigh as Finn entered.

Frowning, he held up the slip as his defense as he approached her in the doorway, just to remind her that she had been the one who called him there. "Did you need something?" he asked without emotion, his eyes landing on the plate of cupcakes.

"I'm sorry," she immediately apologized. "I'm sorry for the way I acted the other day-I was upset with you, but that was no excuse for me to act, um, so immaturely...and I'm sorry about the things I said. You didn't deserve that." She paused for a minute, looking down at the plate of cupcakes. "I, um...I made you cupcakes," she managed to grin, handing the plate to him. "You know, because I feel bad about how I acted."

"You made me...cupcakes?" he raised an eyebrow, still processing the thousand "I'm sorry's" he hadn't expected as he looked down at her.

She looked down at her feet, tracing the floor with the toe of her shoe, feeling a little foolish.  
"They have music notes on them," he observed, grinning slightly.

"I thought you might like that," she whispered, still feeling a little unsure.

"Wow," he paused, shoving his guidance pass into his pocket. "I lied to you and yelled at you and you made me cupcakes. I...pretty much feel like the biggest jerk in the world right now."

"Don't say that, Finn," she chastised. "I wasn't very nice myself," she sighed. "But I was hoping we could but that behind us. You know, start fresh...being honest with each other."  
"I think I can do that," he nodded. "Am I...supposed to leave and take these back to class right now?"

"It's up to you," she answered, catching his gaze. "But I wouldn't mind at all if you wanted to stay for a little."

"Oh, I don't know," he frowned teasingly, taking a seat. "Geometry is sort of the most exciting part of my day. It's pretty wild."

"Well I wouldn't want to keep you then," she laughed, sitting across from him. "Though I'm pretty sure you'll get flocked with those cupcakes. I don't mean to brag or anything, but they're pretty amazing."

"Oh really?" He smiled, moving to set the plate on the floor but then deciding on the edge of her desk when she grimaced at his choice. "Good, I can use them to start winning my popularity back after the way Santana's been flaming me all week."

Emma gulped, feeling a little guilty. She swallowed, looking toward the plate. "You can always have one now if you'd like."

He felt his stomach gurgle a little as he pushed the plate away from the edge. "Nah, that's okay. I'll just end up making a mess."

"So, um, how have you been?" Emma asked, smoothing her skirt across her thighs.

He thought for a second, careful not to just start blurting about all the thoughts he had been shelving in his brain for the past three days. "Oh you know," he started, his eyes moving back towards the cupcakes. "Horrible. Bored. And hungry," he admitted, reaching over to pull back the plastic wrap off the plate.

Emma smiled as she watched him take a cupcake, a little anxious to see how he would like it, watching him try one.

"Oh my god," he groaned with his mouth full. "How does your husband not weigh three hundred pounds? How do _you_ not weigh three hundred pounds?"

She chuckled. "So I take it you like it?" She smiled, feeling a little proud.

He nodded, taking another big bite. "So how have you been?"

A couple of crumbs fell down his face as he spoke, and she couldn't help but to smile at how goofy he looked eating his cupcake. "Pretty good," she told him. "You know, nothing new really."

Brushing the crumbs off his jeans, he leaned over to throw the cupcake wrapper in her tiny spotless trash can. "Great, so I guess we have nothing to talk about now."

She nodded, feeling a bit awkward. "You know what? That's okay. I don't want to take you from class. And I'm sure we'll have plenty to talk about when I see you next Thursday." Though she was fairly certain he'd make an appearance before then.

"I can come back?" he asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Of course you can come back, Finn," she smiled, giving into teasing. "How else am I going to get my plate back?"

That afternoon, Emma's tired feet took the long way back from the classroom where she had been meeting with a teacher and a very concerned parent. Detouring passed the choir room, she couldn't help but grin a little as she caught a glimpse of Finn, slouched back in his chair as he slept through one of Will's weekly pep talks. Clearly the evidence of the cupcake coma, she thought to herself, a state she had witnessed Carl fall into on more than one occasion.

Emma walked back into her office, yawning from the long day and more than ready for a weekend at home. When she reached for her bag behind her desk, she noticed a folded piece of notebook paper poking out of the top. Feeling her heart rate quicken, Emma sat down as she unfolded the note.

_Hey,_

_So I'm sitting here in Biology watching everyone eat your cupcakes. I tried stuffing them in my locker but that didn't work so good. And I thought maybe I could finish them all but six is my record without puking and if I tried to go any higher than four I'd probably just spray them all over the choir room this afternoon. Sorry I don't know why I'm talking about vomit now you don't want to read that. Anyway so I took them to class and everybody kept asking me where they came from and I didn't know what so say so I just told them I got picked to be music student of the month. Oh and just a heads up that Rachel's crying in Figgins office right now asking him why she wasn't picked to be music student of the month. So if you hear anything about that, just play cool._

_Anyway I realized that I'm basically an idiot for not apologizing to you earlier. Not that I'm not used to feeling like an idiot or anything, but this just feels different. What I'm trying to say is that I'm really sorry I lied to you about everything. I don't know why I did it. All I know is I wanted to see you and talk to you, and talking about something I could control felt safer to me. Even if it was a lie. It made me feel more like a guy I guess. Because I know if I really started talking about all the daily crap I think about I feel like you wouldn't like me. And I cared more about you liking me than fixing my problems. That's messed up isn't it?_

_I'm sorry I said those things about no one coming to see you. And I don't know why kids say the stuff they do. I don't know why they don't come to you with their problems. And I know this sounds really selfish and all, but I'm glad they don't. Because it makes me feel special. Like I'm the only one who can see how amazing you really are. And you know what? That makes me feel like maybe I'm not just like everyone else._

_Finn_


	7. Chapter 7

"...Finn!" she screeched when she turned around on his command, watching as he balanced her glass paperweight on his head, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes. "You're gonna break it," she tried to scold him, but his facial expression already had her in a fit of giggles.

He lowered it gently from his head after a moment, placing it in the box neatly labeled 'office supplies,' as she continued to take her books down from the shelves. "You know, with your antics, this is taking us ten times longer than it needs to," she teased him.

"Good," he sighed, falling back into a chair. "Because I pretty much have nothing to do once I get home. You know you should label your boxes with weird names just to freak people out. That's way no one goes snooping through your stuff."

She continued to stack her books, bursting into another fit of giggles at Finn's suggestion. "I'm pretty sure no one wants to go snooping in my stuff anyway," she told him. "I've never heard of a cleaning supplies burglary."

He laughed. "True, but if you label it 'lizard heads' or something you can be certain. That's what I do." Standing, he frowned a little at the blank walls of her office, like the color had been drained out of the small space he had become so fond of. "So what else can I do?"

"I just have these books left," she told him, looking at the two rows that remained on the shelves. "You can help me out, but I, um, like to keep them in alphabetical order when I store them," she told him, sounding a little embarrassed as she always did when she let the extent of her OCD show through.

"You know if I actually owned books I'd probably do the same thing." Grabbing a handful off the shelf, he was careful to keep them in the same order as he placed them in the box. "It must be weird you know. Feeling like you're leaving every year. Even if it's just temporary."

"I'm not whining," she smiled at him, packing away the last of the books. "How many adults can say their job gives them the summer off?" She laughed a little, but her chest felt a little heavy as she glanced at her watch, looking around the empty office, thinking about their impending goodbye.

"What will you do? All summer?"

"Carl has a trip to Hawaii planned," she told him. The honeymoon they never had. "Other than that, you know, just relaxing, reading...cleaning," she told him, shrugging a little. "What about you?"

"Wow, Hawaii?" He blinked, sitting on the edge of her desk. "I've never even seen the ocean. Well my mom's making me get a job so I guess I'll be doing that. And sleeping. And staring at the ceiling. Aren't you jealous?" he smiled weakly.

"The beach is a bit overrated," she laughed, leaning against the edge of the desk beside him. "It's gorgeous, but the sand is itchy and it gets everywhere. And the salt in the water makes you feel all grimy...and it hurts when it gets in your eyes. You're not missing much...so yeah, I am a little jealous of your ceiling staring," she winked, giving his arm a playful push.

"Well I guess I can always take your place then," he grinned. "Although that might be kind of disappointing for Carl. And you can stay at my house and help my mom clean out the basement."

She laughed again. "As much as I love cleaning, I don't think I'm that desperate." She let out a sigh as she looked down the empty hall, beams of inviting summer sunlight splashing across the pattern of the tiles. "You probably need to be getting home soon."

"Okay, I can take a hint," he held up his hands. "At least let me take some of these to your car."

"Thanks for all your help, Finn," she smiled as she took two boxes in her grasp, watching Finn easily scoop up the rest. She was glad they didn't have to say goodbye just yet.

"It's nothing," he shook his head, holding the door open for her. "Nothing compared to the crap that you let me dump on you this year."

"You know I'm always here to listen to you, Finn," she reminded him. She was constantly reinforcing that, especially after their little outburst a few months before. "I'll miss our weekly chats this summer." She smiled, though her throat was so tight that she thought she mind cry.

"It'll go by fast," he assured himself more than her as he set the boxes down beside her car.

"And you'll be so busy having fun you won't even notice. Hey, I'll probably have to reintroduce myself to you next fall," he frowned, swinging his car keys around his fingers.

"It'd be pretty impossible to forget you," she assured him, opening up her trunk, taking in a deep breath as she turned to face him, determined not to cry.

Get a grip, it's not like one of you is dying, Finn told himself as he scooped the boxes and fit them snugly into her car. No she's just going to probably have sex on the beach with her husband in Hawaii. Like that's any better. "All right," he said, gently closing the trunk of her car as he attempted a half smile. "Well have fun this summer. Don't do anything I would do."

She laughed a little, swiping away a tear, feeling embarrassed. "I'm not very good at goodbyes," she admitted, trying to continue to smile as her eyes welled up.

"Hey come on, this is silly," he said softly, feeling her tears tug at his insides as he put his hands on her shoulders. "I'll probably see you at the gas station tomorrow. It's not a big town."

"I can't help it," she defended herself, laughing at herself as her tears uncontrollably poured out. "You're a great kid, Finn. I'm so glad I've gotten the chance to know you better this year," she blubbered. She knew she was acting like she was never going to see him again, but she couldn't help but to get sentimental.

"Stop, please," he frowned as his hands took on a mind of their own. Tightening around her tiny arms, pulling her against his chest as he ignored the alarms that went off in his head.

She could hardly protest, the thought of a goodbye hug hovering in the back of her mind anyway. She reached to wrap her arms around his neck, still sniffling as she held him close for a moment.

The fear of touching a teacher in broad daylight was certainly the farthest thing from Finn's mind, as he let his arms slip lower around her waist and his head grew a little fuzzy from the sweet smell of her hair.

With a shaky sigh, she pulled away, smiling at Finn through her blurry eyes. "Have a great summer. I'm sure I'll bump into you at some point."

"You better," he nodded, fighting the urge to hug her again.

"Bye, Finn," she waved, stepping into her car, a melancholy feeling settling in her stomach as she watched him wave back.

* * *

_This was a shorter chapter, but we promise we have lots more on the way. Thanks for all the feedback! - K&K_


	8. Chapter 8

Sitting in the noisy food court, Finn tapped the pen against his leg to a faintly familiar rhythm as he flipped through the pages of the job application. He stopped at the personal references section, frowning as pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, only to remind himself of the number he didn't and shouldn't have. He sighed a little as he scribbled down Mr. Schue's name and number.

He had spent the first week of summer break planted face down on his bed, music blaring in the background to drown the sound of Kurt's annoyed pounding on the door.

The second week, his lazy body migrated downstairs to settle on the couch, only rising up to raid the refrigerator or grab a clean pair of boxers from the laundry room. He would grunt in protest as his mom leaned down to scratch his hair or plant a kiss on his forehead, always following her gestures with her unwelcome coaxing._ You need some sun, Finn. You need a job, Finn. You need to call your friends, Finn. _

"My friends are out of town," he whined as he flipped through the channels on the TV, feeling his stomach twist in anxiety as he passed a documentary about volcanic disasters on the History Channel.

Sheer boredom had driven him out on the third week, sending him wandering aimlessly through the mall as he mentally crossed out all the lame kiosks and clothing stores. Until he peered curiously at a brightly colored window display, his mind rewinding back to a conversation they had had when he commented her on a skirt she was wearing.

Walking into the store, he tugged at the frayed hem of his t-shirt as he suddenly felt out of place. After he had mumbled his request at the sales counter, he slid the folded pages into the back pocket of his jeans and walked out feeling a little lighter in his step. So now he sat, frowning as the sauce from his sweet and sour chicken dribbled a little onto the crisp blank page in front of him and he wondered what exactly Coach Beiste would say if they called her as a reference.

"Trust me, you don't want to work there," a voice sprang up behind him. His eyes widened as she pulled the chair out across from him and plopped down, her fingers tapping knowingly on the pages as she shook her head. "Clientele is way too stuffy."

"What?" he stared, admiring the way her red hair cloaked her shoulders.

"Tell me your name," she smiled, grabbing his fork and popping a piece of chicken into her mouth. "I'm Jessica."

By the fourth week of summer break, he had a job, his mom's approval, and a third date with Jessica. At first it almost felt like he was cheating, but he laughed at himself for thinking such a dumb thing. She was nice for the most part, and their conversations helped drown out the images of someone probably lounging in a tiny swimsuit on the beach, her own memories of him washing out of her brain with the tides. Besides, if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear her laughing instead as his fingers crept up his date's t-shirt in the front seat of his car. Her sighing instead as his lips trailed across her freckled neck.

By the fourth week of summer break, he had let go of the hope of being thought about. Pulling into his driveway, he turned off the car and loosened his work tie as his cell phone chirped with a text from Jess. _This is what normal teenagers do,_ he told himself as he slammed the car door. _She helped you out a little and you helped her. That's all it was, and you're done fooling yourself. _

Grinning at the goofy message Jess had sent him about their date the previous night, he pushed open the back store of the house as he was greeted with the smell of dinner and his mom's cheerful voice.

"You got mail, sweetie," she called from the kitchen, causing him to pause.

And he blinked at the small rectangle of glossy ocean set askew on the dining room table, his mom's voice calling out again.

"Oh and by the way...who's Emma?"

* * *

She stood by the window, pulling back the printed curtain as she peered out at the beach, trying to spot Carl among the sea of people. A week into their vacation, Emma was tired and a little home sick, and she had opted to stay back in the room this morning as Carl had eagerly headed to the beach to soak up some sun.

"Are you sure you don't want to come, gorgeous?" Carl had whispered, his lips brushing softly against her ear. Her hair was still damp from the shower she had insisted they take after their loving-making last night.

"Mhmm," she muttered, turning over to face him. "I'm still a little sleepy...and I'm not sure if my skin is ready for the sun yet," she laughed a little, glancing down at her bare shoulder, still pink from their day spent at the beach a few days before.

He pecked her cheek affectionately, smiling at her. "Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind."

Now she sighed, letting the curtain fall back into the place. She fell back against the bed, closing her eyes, taking in a deep breath. A year ago she would not have been able to make this trip, but Carl had been nothing but encouraging, convincing her that the fruit from an organic market in Hawaii would be just as sanitary as her fruit from home. He had been entertaining and engaging on the flight there, making sure that Emma didn't have a chance to let her anxiety consume her. Though Carl's sweetness was unfailing, it often left Emma feeling uneasy, leaving her feeling a little scared when she realized she could not reciprocate his feelings properly.

It was the honeymoon they never had, and they had finally taken the step to consummate their marriage almost seven months into their union. It was frightening and somewhat thrilling, though after the deed was done, Emma had to wonder why she had made such a big deal out of it in the first place. It had felt natural enough, and Carl was careful never to make her uncomfortable.

She rose from the bed, running her fingers through her messy hair, letting her bathrobe fall from her body as she picked out a pale green sundress. After she took the time to curl her hair and apply a coat of makeup, she quickly realized just how bored she was as she paced around the one room hotel suite.

She hardly wanted to join Carl at the beach, the thought of the hot sun beating down on her sore skin almost unbearable. Letting out another sigh, she immediately thought of Finn, craving the boy's conversation more than she wanted to admit. She wondered what he was doing right now, and though she found herself in one of the most desirable vacation destinations, she couldn't help but to think that Finn was most likely having more fun.

She grabbed her purse, taking the extra room key off the dresser top, her destination unknown as she stepped onto the elevator. She walked around the air conditioned lobby, stopping outside a little gift shop nestled in the corner.

She entered the store, examining the trivial items listlessly, getting reading to leave as quickly as she had come in when the postcard rack caught her eye. She spun the display around, sighing as she looked at the pretty pictures. The scenes were just as pretty as the sights she had been seeing with Carl, though as she had told Finn, she much preferred to admire nature's beauty in photographs.

She sighed, smiling a little as she thought of Finn, picking up a card with a serene beach scene, the white sand and vibrant blue water shining in the picture. She remembered Finn's words, telling her that he had never seen the beach, and she gripped the card tighter.

_No, put it back, _she commanded herself, pushing the thought away. _Just because you have access to all your student's addresses on your laptop doesn't mean you can go sending them postcards. _

But she thought of Finn, so different from the rest of her students. She thought of his charming smile, his genuine nature, looking down at the postcard once again. She grabbed three more, promising herself she'd write to her family as well.

After paying for the cards, she headed back to her room, a little too eagerly. Once inside, she sat down on the edge of the bed, biting her lips as she pulled out a pen, thoughtfully tapping it against her thigh as she mused over her words.

_Dear Finn, _she started, her stomach flopping a little. _I just wanted to say hi, and I hope that you're having a great summer. Hawaii's beautiful, but I miss talking to you-_

She frowned, rereading what she had written so far, crumpling it up immediately once she had. She looked at her three remaining postcards, choosing one with a similar beach scene.

Writing more slowly this time, she began again.

_Finn-_

_I wasn't kidding when I said that the beach is a lot prettier to look at from a distance. So here's a little taste of the ocean for you. I hope you're having a great summer. _

_Emma_

She hadn't thought twice when signing her name, and she frowned a little when she realized what she had done. She was about to crumble up the second card, when she stopped herself, realizing that _Ms. Pillsbury-Howell _had no place on the postcard.

It was easy enough to find Finn's address in her files, and she blushed a little as she copied it down in the corner.

Peeking back out the window, she knew she had ages before Carl returned back to the room, so she grabbed her purse again, setting out in search of a stamp and a mailbox.


	9. Chapter 9

Finn slumped his arms on the counter in front of the cash register, checking his cell phone for the time. There were seven hours left in his ten hour Saturday shift, and he had already convinced himself that if one more gay guy asked him how tall he was, or one more old lady tried to return a sweater with cat hair all over it, he was just going to hang up his dumb clothes and quit. He tried to remember why he had even applied there in the first place, and when he did he felt even more dumb. Stacking old tires and hosing off the cement at Burt's shop suddenly felt so much more entertaining.

Emma searched through a rack of cardigans, holding a pale blue one up to her chest before remembering she already had at least two in this color already. Not that it would end up mattering. Cardigans were Emma's guilty pleasure, and she tended to be frivolous when purchasing them. She placed the sweater back on the rack, however, deciding she'd come back to it later. She wandered toward the back of the store, her cheeks turning a little pink as she looked through a stack of lacy panties and bras.

If he hadn't been so bored out of his mind, he probably wouldn't have even noticed her. His first instinct was to duck behind the counter, but the other staff were working the dressing rooms. As he watched her wander around the store, picking carefully at items and leaving them more immaculately folded than she had found them, his eyes wandered down the back of her bare legs, which were the tiniest bit darker, no doubt from the beach.

Emma sorted through the stack of panties, biting her lip as she pulled out a frilly black thong, holding it up to examine it, only blushing deeper when she thought about what Carl would think about it.

Anyone could have walked in, filled a wheelbarrow of expensive clothes, and rolled out of the store at that moment. And he wouldn't have noticed. He was too busy trying to remember how to blink as he watched her.

She reached for a matching lacy black bra, oblivious to anyone around her as she held it up to her body, frowning a little as she glanced down at her tiny chest.

_This is stupid_, he told himself, looking down to straighten his tie. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from behind the sales counter and started towards her. "Hey stranger," he tapped her shoulder.

"Oh!" Emma jumped, gasping when she turned sharply on her heel to reveal Finn standing behind her. "I, um..." the lacy black underpants and bra fell from her grasp before she could finish her thought, and as she bent down to retrieve them, her back hit the table, causing a handful of intimate apparel to come tumbling to the floor.

"It's okay," he swallowed in embarrassment, as he stooped down to pick up a few bras. "I can get it."

"No, no, no," she stammered. "I can...let me help...I'll just..." she flushed as she bent down, her hand brushing against Finn's as they both reached for the same bra.

His hand shot back quickly, causing him to lose his balance as he fell back onto the floor on his butt. Rubbing his back, he started laughing a little as he watched her scramble to pick up the rest of the mess. "So uh... good to know you're back," he grinned, stating the obvious.

She dared to laugh as well, feeling some of the tension lift as she tossed the underwear back on the table, for once not caring about folding.

"Yeah, I just got back two days ago," she told him, smiling a little as he offered her his hand to help her up from the floor. She smoothed the material of her sun dress as she stood. "Did you get my postcard?" she asked, looking from her feet to his eyes.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah I did." _It's in my jacket pocket right now_, he thought but didn't dare say. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to hear all about it."

"I can assure you it wasn't very eventful," she laughed a little. "I'm glad to be back home. The sun and I really don't get along." She glanced down at her arms, still a little pink from getting burnt.

"I'm glad," he nodded. "I mean I'm glad you're back. But also that nothing too exciting happened," he shook his head, trying to correct his words. "I mean...you know when you were gone I started thinking about volcanoes and stuff and that's kinda scary. There aren't any volcanoes here. In Ohio."

"We didn't see any volcanoes," she assured him. Carl had wanted to, but she had pointedly refused. Not even Carl could convinced her to step that far out of her comfort zone. "But enough about me. What have you been up to, Finn?"

_Besides giving you a heart attack? _he thought, eying the pile of underwear she had thrown on the table uneasily. "Oh, not a lot. Just working...hanging out with a few people. Our neighbors' kids got a slip n' slide and I may or may not have participated."

"It sounds like you're having fun," she smiled, stepping away from the lingerie table, instead walking over to a rack of cardigans, Finn following behind her. "I would've never expected to see you working here," she admitted, giving him a smile.

What is that supposed to mean?" he teased, looking back to make sure no one was trying to check out. "Where would you expect me to work?"

She wanted to smack herself. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that...you know, people usually just apply to places they're, um, more interested in...and you don't really strike me as a J. Crew kind of guy...not that you can't be." She paused for a breath. "This is all coming out wrong, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with you working here," she assured him.

"It's fine," he shook his head as he felt his pride take a little blow, frowning a little as he took a step back. "You know what, I'll just let you look around. Let me know if you need me to...reach anything or something."

She felt bad, knowing that her string of thoughtless words had hurt him. "What do you think of this sweater?" she asked, holding up the light blue cardigan she had had her eye on before, hoping to amend her careless words as she asked for his opinion.

"Blue is definitely your color," he smiled. "Oh...but you know what..." he smacked his forehead. "I already have one so it might be embarrassing you know if we showed up at school wearing the same thing."

She grinned, pushing him playfully. "It won't matter because I'll look better in it," she easily joked.

"You're just full of compliments today," he observed, still grinning from her teasing. "I think all that sun did something to your brain."

"Must be it," she laughed, realizing just how much she missed her interactions with Finn. Her eyes strayed toward a rack of skirts, knowing she hardly needed one anymore than she needed a new cardigan.

"Do you come here a lot?"

"What kind of question is that?" she laughed a little. "I'm like a walking advertisement for this store."

He thought for a second. "So I guess that makes you my boss if you spend all your money here."

"More like your main source of income," she laughed, fingering a printed skirt, flipping over the price tag and frowning.

"I know it's crazy right? I have to spend most of my check just to afford the clothes I have to wear to work here."

"I should find a less expensive hobby," she sighed, looking longingly at the skirt for a moment. Instead, she draped the cardigan over her arm, following Finn over to the check out.

"You're not gonna try it on?" he asked, watching her set the sweater on the counter.

"When you own as many cardigans as I do, trying them on isn't really necessary anymore," she smiled, reaching for her wallet inside of her purse.

"Yeah well that's probably a good thing because I don't think they ever clean the fitting rooms. No telling what sort of foot fungus is growing on the carpet," he joked as he rang up the item, placing it into a bag for her carefully.

"It was nice seeing you today, Finn. With my addiction to cardigans, it won't be long until I see you again," she joked, smiling as she took her bag from his grasp.

"I hope not. I'm really glad you're back. And you know..." he leaned his arms forward on the counter as he smiled hopefully. "If you ever have any other interests, you know...besides clothes...I'll be around."

She bit her lip, feeling a little unsettled. "We'll see, Finn," she told him, politely, smiling again as she lifted the bag from the counter.


	10. Chapter 10

She couldn't help but to smile as she walked through the entrance to the mall, smiling in spite of herself as walked the familiar entrance to J. Crew.

He's probably not even there, she chastised herself, trying to subdue her excitement, convincing herself she was merely headed to her favorite store for a simple shopping trip as she had so many times in the past. But the truth was, she was wishing desperately that Finn would be there. Carl worked during the week, and her days were quickly becoming long and lonely. She craved Finn's easy conversation and the interest he had in talking with her, and the thought of waiting to make her meetings with him more constant until the new school year began was making her extremely antsy.

She knew the grin on her face probably looked ridiculous as she stepped into the store, her smile waning slightly as she realized that Finn was not in his spot behind the crash register. She held onto the hope that he was elsewhere in the store, beginning to nonchalantly sift through items in the store, for once hardly tempted by the cheerful cardigans and inviting pencil skirts.

She frowned when it was apparent he was not in the store, reminding herself that seeing him was not the purpose of her shopping trip. But she bit her lip in frustration as she peered into the fitting room, hoping that perhaps he was manning it. As she sighed, looking a bit exasperated, the fitting room attendant approached her, smiling pleasantly.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" she asked politely.

Emma was about to decline her offer, but before she could stop herself, the words flew from her mouth. "Do you know if Finn Hudson is working today?"

"Finn?" the woman repeated frowning a little.

"Yeah, brown hair, really tall."

At the word 'tall,' her face lit up. "Yeah, Finn," she laughed a little. "He's a real sweetie. He's on his break right now, but I can tell him you stopped by if you'd like."

"Oh, um, that's fine. But thank you," Emma smiled, sighing a little as she left the store.

She walked aimlessly around the mall, not ready to return home yet. But as she passed the food court, a flash of red caught her attention, her stomach twisting a little when she focused her eyes. There was Finn, laughing with a pretty girl, a mass of curly red hair cascading down her back. He took a bite of his ice cream, the sweet treat leaving a white mustache on his upper lip. The girl giggled, reaching to wipe his lip gently, and as Emma suddenly felt depressed as she watched the two.

Just leave, she told herself, but as the girl said something, causing Finn to burst into a fit of laughter, Emma found herself walking determinedly toward the table, unable to reason with herself.

Finn stopped mid-laugh as his eyes widened at the last person he had expected to see, realizing she was walking straight towards them.

Emma suddenly felt very foolish as she reached the table, smiling at Finn and glancing nervously toward the girl. "Hey, Finn...I, um, was just passing by, and I thought I'd say hi."

"Hi," he repeated back, scooting a little bit away from Jessica as his ice cream dripped a little bit down his fingers unnoticed. "Yeah, I'm a...on my lunch break."

Emma continued to smile, fidgeting a little with her purse, making small talk though she suddenly felt like she was intruding. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he nodded, wincing a little in embarrassment as Jessica took his hand, wiping off his fingers with a napkin. "Oh I'm sorry, uh...this is Jessica. My friend. Jess, this is Ms. Pillsbury. She works at my school."

Emma watched a little uncomfortably as his "friend" cleaned up after him before snapping her attention to her face. She was pretty, a dotting of freckles across her nose, and her clear blue eyes shined with confidence as they met Emma's.

"Hello, Jessica. It's nice to meet you."

Finn smiled weakly as Jess laughed, nudging her shoulder against his. "Wow Finn, you must be really boring or a real troublemaker if you're this popular with all the teachers at your school."

"We ran into Mr. Schue yesterday at the movies," he explained to Emma.

Emma laughed a little uncomfortably, her giggles too high-pitched. "Oh, you know Finn. Such a troublemaker." She laughed again, her eyes flicking back to Jessica as she scooted closer to Finn, bringing her hand to the back of Finn's neck as she played with the edges of his hair.

"Yeah I think I have some idea," Jess replied, winking at Finn as he snatched her hand and pulled it back gently.

"She works at the Gap," he explained to Emma, attempting a smile. "She's home for the summer. From college."

"Oh," Emma muttered, unable to think of anything to say for a moment. "That's nice. Where do you go to school, Jessica?"

Jessica was clearly annoyed by her presence, though she looked a little wry as she examined her nails, her eyes flashing for a moment as she nonchalantly answered with a shrug. "Cornell."

"Wow," Emma answered, feeling annoyed herself. She let out a small huff as she glanced back toward Finn, who was intently examining a drop of spilled ice cream on the table top.

"I know right?" he nodded at the table. "I can't even spell Cornell." He winced as Jess laughed and smacked at his cheek playfully.

"And that's why you're so cute," she grinned, turning back to Emma. "Are your kids in high school too?"

"Excuse me?" Emma asked, glaring at the younger girl, her disdain for her only increasing.

"Hey," Finn interjected, pulling his cell phone out of the back of his jeans as he stood. "I think it's time for me to get back. You know, crazy sale today. Pants or something," he mumbled, looking down to brush a few crumbs off of his shirt. "Jess, I'll call you tonight okay?" Turning toward Emma, he smiled apologetically. "Ms. Pillsbury do you want to walk back with me? There's something I wanted to ask you about my schedule for next semester."

She was tempted to say no, her annoyance at it's pique. But as Jessica kissed his cheek quickly, disappearing into the crowd, she let out a small sigh. "Sure, Finn."

"So how you've been?" he grinned, excited to finally be alone as he weaved around a couple kids and a stroller as they walked away from the food court.

"Fine," she answered, her voice a little snappy. "So when did you two start dating?" she asked before she could help herself.

He frowned as he quickened his pace to keep up with her fast steps. "Um, a couple of weeks ago. It's not a big deal. You know it's just nice to have somebody to eat lunch with."

"Of course," she said, her cheeks turning a little pink as she felt her expression soften a little, sympathy settling in. He didn't want to feel alone anymore than she did. "She seems like she's a lot of fun," Emma muttered as politely as she could.

"I guess," he shrugged. "I don't really understand what she's talking about half the time. She talks faster than Rachel does."

"She's pretty," Emma muttered, looking down at her feet as she spoke.

"You think so? Well it doesn't matter anyway," he mumbled, frowning as he the store came into sight. "She's just bored and needs some entertainment for the summer. That's the only reason she asked me out."

She sighed a little, wanting to tell him he could do better, but she refrained. "Well, she's a lucky girl, getting to spend so much time with a great guy like you," she said instead, giving him a small smile.

"Thanks," he muttered, turning to her. "I wish more people felt that way. People I actually wanted to spend time with." His smile was small and hopeful.

"I'm sure they do...more than you think," she answered, biting her lip, catching his gaze.

"This is dumb," he grinned, feeling his insides melt and run together. "I want to be your friend. I mean I feel like I already am, but it's just weird to me that I can't use the word or anything and I just..." he paused a little as he felt his words begin to run ahead of him and saw her eyes widen in response. "I just need to shut up right now because I have said too much."

"Finn, I'm your teacher," she answered immediately, her throat a little tight. "I-I want that to, to you know, be your friend." She wanted it more than she should've, Finn's company making her happier than anything had in ages. "But Finn..." she sighed, unsure of what to say next.

"Yeah well I've had friends who are teachers," he interrupted, thinking about all the times Mr. Schue had taken him out to eat last year. "And you're not exactly my teacher," he stopped, thinking quickly. "And anyway, it's summer. We're just two people," he gestured between them. "Who have a really boring summer ahead of them. Unless you have this really fascinating secret life I don't know about..." he teased.

Her apprehension eased a little as she spoke softly. "I could use a friend," she admitted, smiling a little as she looked at Finn through her lashes.

"Me too," he replied, trying hopelessly to keep his grin under control as his fingers hid in his pockets. "And, you know, the second you get tired of me you can just tell me. It's not a big deal," he shrugged, thinking the opposite.

"I'm more worried about you getting sick of me," she joked. "I can't exactly keep up with people like Jessica."

"Good, because neither can I," he laughed a little.

"So, as my friend, would you like to do dinner when you get off from work?" Emma dared to ask, her stomach fluttering a little as she spoke the words, blushing a little in spite of herself.

"Yeah, I think I would...Emma," he added, testing out her name a little and smiling at the sound of it. "Will um, Dr. Howell wanna come or something."

She grinned, catching his eye again. "He's going out with some friends tonight," she told him. "So he won't mind if I go out with you tonight." She lied. She wasn't sure how Carl would feel about her developing a friendship with a student, and she felt a little hot thinking about explaining it to him.

"That's awesome," he nodded, feeling the urge to quit his job and just follow her wherever she was going. "It's really great you guys have such a laid back marriage."

She laughed, feeling a little uneasy. "So, um, how's seven?" she asked. "I guess I should give you my number..." she muttered, rummaging through her purse for a slip of paper. She quickly jotted her number down, taking in a breath as she smiled, handing it to him.

He put his prize into his pocket. "Thanks so I'll just call you when I get off and Jessica and I can meet you wherever. Your choice."

"If Jessica and you were planning to go out tonight, then I don't want to get in the way," Emma replied, keeping her irritation in check, missing the humor in Finn's tone.

"I'm kidding, geez," he chuckled, patting her shoulder softly. "But boy you really are not a fan are you? I'll keep that in mind."

She blushed hopelessly, stammering a little as she changed the subject. "So what kind of food do you like?"

"Oh you know me, anything's good. I care more about the company."

She smiled. "Well, I'll let you get back to work. I'll see you tonight, Finn." She waved as she left the store, unable to wipe the grin off her face.


	11. Chapter 11

_What exactly do friends do? _

Emma asked herself that question quite a few times as she nervously picked her way through her salad and their conversation during their first dinner as friends. Much to her surprise and relief, however, Finn seemed to have a few ideas of his own, ideas that left her smiling from her sprouting boldness as the weeks of the summer flew by. Ideas that often left her bent over with laughter from their easy conversations and goofy antics.

Though their time together always fluctuated back and forth from silly to serious, Emma found that her admissions spilled out quite comfortably, just as she treated his own as quite sacred. He learned she had spent the third grade in and out of psychiatrists' offices. She learned he had spent the third grade in and out of elementary schools every time his mom lost her job and had to move.

She found that Finn didn't complain the eighteenth time she plunked her pink golf ball into the stagnant pond at the mini-golf hut. And that he didn't huff or pout when she beat him at every single game in the arcade down by the batting cages or when she rubbed it in his face for an entire week. She didn't really mind so much that he couldn't seem to keep food off his clothes when she took him out to lunch, and he didn't mind that it took her ten minutes just to talk herself into walking into a public restroom at the city park.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but do you not...own any park clothes?" he asked during one such occasion, ducking underneath a low branch hanging over the path as they walked through the park.

Emma looked down at her sun dress, pink with a faint white floral pattern. She walked across the grass in her matching pink flats. "This is actually pretty casual for me," she defended, though she laughed a little, unable to keep from smiling as he caught her gaze.

"Yeah, and it's nice and all, don't get me wrong, But what if you want to like, run around. Or roll down a hill or something?"

"Finn, I'm not six," she laughed. "I can assure you I have no desire to, you know, roll down a hill..."

"Hey, neither am I, but it's still fun to get a little dizzy every now and then," he grinned. "Of course the people in this park are pretty bad about picking up after their dogs...so I can see where that might go horribly wrong."

She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "No rolling. Or running," she added, content to merely walk with Finn down the park path on this gorgeous summer day.

"Good to know," he nodded. "What about sliding and swinging?"

"I might be able to handle those," she told him, trying not to think of the germy children who swarmed the playground equipment.

"I wouldn't worry too much," he assured her, eying the surprisingly empty playground. "Parents are pretty good these days about not letting kids make a mess. Or like lick stuff."

"It's scary, thinking about the things kids put in their mouths," Emma muttered, stopping as she reached the edge of the playground, glancing at the sand covered ground uncomfortably.

Finn plopped down on a bench as he pulled off his shoes and socks. "Is something wrong?" he frowned up at her, slipping his cell phone and keys into a shoe.

"I'd just rather not get sand in my shoes," she managed the whispered, gulping a little as she looked back toward the ground.

"Then that's why you take them off. It's just sand. Like Hawaii. Only cheaper," he shrugged, daring a half-smile.

"Well, yeah, I'm pretty sure the sand in Hawaii didn't have pee and snot in it," she frowned; the sand on the lot had seen better days. She looked down at her feet again, wiggling her toes inside her shoes.

"Well I'm not gonna carry you," he teased, wishing a little that he could. "So I guess you can just watch." He jetted off, climbing up the ladder of a slide.

Emma let out a dramatic sigh, watching him for a moment. He stood at the top of the jungle gym, raising an eyebrow as he looked down on her. "Fine," she muttered, tossing her shoes beside his, gasping a little as her feet hit the warm sand, the grains immediately sticking between her toes.

She looked so tiny down below as he watched her watch her toes wiggle curiously. "You won't die," he shouted down. "I ate like ten pounds of that stuff when I was a baby and I'm pretty sure I turned out okay."

"That's questionable," she teased back, taking in a deep breath as she crossed the lot, wincing a little as she grabbed onto the the rungs of the jungle gym ladder.

"I also remember this being a lot bigger when I was a kid," he commented, reaching for her hand as she climbed up. "Funny how that changes."

Her heart pounded a little as her skin made contact with his, her breath catching in her throat as he pulled her up to the top. She smiled as she leaned against the railing, looking out toward the park. "This view is almost as good as the view I had from my balcony in Hawaii," she joked.

"Oh I'm sure," he rolled his eyes. "So which way do you-ow!" he winced as he bumped his head on the plastic roof. "I guess this isn't really made for my size," he admitted as he rubbed the back of his head.

She immediately burst into laughter, approaching him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" She continued to giggle.

"Yeah I think so," he frowned in embarrassment. "So I was gonna say, which way are you going down?" he motioned his hands towards the blue fireman's pole planted off the edge of the tower and the neon orange slide chute.

"That ladder isn't an option?" she muttered, looking a little nervously at both descents.

"Nope," he grinned, wrapping his legs around the pole as he stepped off the tower and slid down. "Or you can just spend the night up there!" he shouted up.

She faked a dramatic sigh, pointedly rolling her eyes as she neared the top of the orange tube slide, peering through the tunnel cautiously as she positioned herself at the entrance.

He grinned as he scaled back up the ladder, sneaking up behind her as he wrapped his fingers around her waist and gave her a surprise push.

"Finn!" she shrieked as she slid down the slide suddenly, gasping when she reached the end, and she fell onto the sand below.

"Crap," he breathed as he watched her flop into the sand on her butt below. Jumping off the tower, he slid down the pole again and waded over in the sand to her. "Are you okay?" he squatted, bracing himself for her response.

She was still in a little bit of shock, but as Finn approached her, she glanced at up him through her lashes, giving him a playful slap as he crouched down beside her.

"Hey! What was that for?" he laughed, rubbing his cheek a little as he sat down next to her. "That was such a graceful landing."

"Don't make me smack you again," she joked, shifting her legs so she was in a more comfortable position, her hand resting in the grainy sand. She grinned over at Finn.

"So do you need another turn? Or is that enough for now?"

"Enough," she sighed, closing her eyes as she lifted her face to the afternoon sun. "I'm an old lady," she reminded him.

"Okay old lady," he stood, brushing off his jeans and offering her a hand. "Do I need to call an ambulance or can you get up?"

"I may have thrown out my back," she joked, but she took his hand, rising to her feet, brushing the sand off the back of her legs and dress.

"So what did you like to play when you were little?" he asked, grinning as he watched her suddenly so ease with the grime of the playground.

"Well, I used to have a lot of dolls," she smiled a little bit at the memory. "And I liked to dress them, matching their outfits. And then I'd line them all up on my shelf, the biggest one first, and the smallest one last..." she trailed off, looking down at her bare toes. "I wasn't really a typical child," she laughed a little.

"Yeah me neither. I was always getting into messes. You know, like jumping off the roof with a garbage bag for a parachute. That was almost as bad as when I put a bunch of earthworms in the washing machine."

"Oh, gosh," Emma laughed a little. "You sound like you were one of those kids I'd be scared to have."

"Yeah, I think I grew out of it," he shrugged. "I'm still a giant mess but at least it's not on purpose."

She smiled at him, glancing toward the swing set over to the side of the jungle gym. "I used to love the swings when I was little," she let out a sigh, looking at them fondly.

"Well hop in then," he grinned, walking over to a giant tire swing.

She smoothed her dress as she situated herself on the black tube, smiling up at Finn, feeling a little silly as he began to push her.

"Just tell me if it's too high." He pushed the large black tire a little harder and moved out of the way.

"Higher, higher!" she jokily begged, sounding like an impatient child. She gripped the metal cords holding the swing into place, her hands hurting a little.

"All right. But hold on." He pushed as hard as he could. When she swung back in his direction, he turned the tire with the palms of his hands so that it started to spin, twisting the chains a little.

She let out a squeal as the tire began to spin, her head feeling a little light as the playground swirled around her. "Make it stop, Finn!" she suddenly found herself shrieking, closing her eyes as she continued to spin.

"What did you say?" he shouted back as she swung up even higher. "Faster?" He gave the tire another push.

"Finnnnn!" she screamed, tucking her head against her chest, shrieking and laughing at the same time, her hands burning as she fought to hold on tightly.

He laughed at the noises she made as the tire zipped back and forth. Grabbing onto her foot, he spun her in the opposite direction.

She kicked at his hand, screaming again. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna get sick if you don't stop it," she warned.

"Okay, okay, sorry," he smiled, wrapping his fingers around the rim of the tire and letting it slow. "We don't need you to get sick."

She nearly lost her footing as she climbed out of the swing and stumbled across the ground, groaning a little as she tried to focus her eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" he laughed, catching onto her arm as she tried to make her dizzy way through the sand. "You're gonna get us in trouble. The park police are gonna think you're drunk at the playground."

She stumbled backward, falling against him, closing her eyes. She faked a hiccup, bursting into laughter, knowing it was only making her look more ridiculous.

"Whoa, ok, silly," he swallowed, feeling a little uneasy from the pressure of her warm shoulders against his chest. "I think you need to sit down for a second. We don't want you breaking a hip or something."

She snorted, unable to contain her laughter. "Sorry, sorry," she gasped, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as he led her toward the bench.

"Are you okay?" he frowned as he sat down beside her, feeling confused as she started swiping at your eyes. "I'm sorry I was mean."

"I'm fine," she assured him, finally catching her breath. "It's just been a while since I had this much fun," she explained, taking in another breath.

"Really?" he grinned, feeling his cheeks redden. "Well then you should get Carl to get you a swing set for your birthday."

Emma let out a sigh, glancing at the setting sun, then her gold wrist watch. "I should be going soon," she muttered.

He nodded, reaching down to pick up his shoes. "I'm sorry if you got your dress dirty."

She followed suit, slipping her own feet into her flats. She looked down at her dress, a little discolored from the sand and dirt. "Nothing the wash can't fix," she assured him, and she added before she could help herself. "What are you doing on Friday?"

"I'm not sure," he frowned. "My great aunt sort of died, and I think my mom wants me to go to the funeral in Cincinnati this weekend."

"Oh, Finn, I'm really sorry," she apologized, her brow knitting in sympathy. Her stomach sunk, her laughter from only moments before now lost.

"It's okay, I didn't really know her or anything. And it's probably too much trouble to take off work anyway."

"Still, a death is never easy...my sympathies go out to your family," she told him.

"Well don't tell anybody but it'll be nice to get everyone out of the house," he admitted as he tied his shoes. " I just need a couple days to flop on the couch and eat crap."

She let out a sigh, smiling a little at Finn. "Thanks for inviting me here today. I had a lot of fun."

"Me too. We'll have to come back when you're ready for some hill rolling."

"Well, I don't know about that," she laughed, rising from the bench. "I'll see you later, Finn."

"Bye, Emma," he grinned, watching as she stopped periodically to swipe a little sand off of her legs as she walked to her car.


	12. Chapter 12

She stood nervously on his door step with a warm casserole in her hands, wondering if this had been a foolish idea. But that's what people did, right? Make casseroles for families suffering a loss? And even though Finn had told her he would be fine, the thought of him surviving on junk food was just pitiful. Taking in a breath, she pressed her finger against the doorbell.

Finn groaned as the doorbell jerked him out of a very happy dream. He pulled his fist out of the doritos bag on his chest, wiping his fingers on his boxers as he blinked awake. She shifted from foot to foot, looking anxiously at the door, the casserole dish feeling heavy in her arms.

He sighed, padding towards the door in his bare feet as he wondered why his mother felt the need to still have the neighbor's check on him when he clearly wasn't a kid anymore. He pulled open the front door, his eyes widening.

"Um, hi," she muttered, glancing from the dish to his sleepy eyes. "I, uh, made you a casserole," she stated the obvious, blushing a little.

"What are you doing here?" his throat scratched out. He glanced behind him nervously even though he knew no one else was home, and then down at his purple power rangers t-shirt in embarrassment.

"I made you a casserole," she said again. "Because I thought you, um, might be getting a little hungry for real food..." she further explained, following his eyes to his t-shirt.

"Oh. Well thanks." He took the dish from her hands, feeling awkward as he stood in the doorway in his pajamas.

She forced a smile. "Um, I guess that's it," she muttered awkwardly. "I'll see you later."

"Wait hold on." He frowned and held the door open with his knee. "I'm sorry, do you wanna come in or something?"

"Are you sure?" Her eyes darted to his power ranger shirt again. "I mean..." she trailed off, catching his gaze again.

"Yeah, it's fine," he smiled a little, motioning her in as he set the dish down on the hall table. "Just give me a minute and I'll," he looked down at his boxers, "I'll be right back."

She nodded, standing in the living a little awkwardly, folding her hands at her waist as she glanced around the cluttered room. Finn hurried up the steps, throwing open the door of his bedroom as he wrestled off his t-shirt. Grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor, he threw them on and pulled a random polo out of his closet. He smiled a little at his reflection in the mirror as he smoothed his hair back and tested his breath in the palm of his hand.

She had not moved as she heard Finn hurry back down the steps, smiling as the boy approached her again, looking much more alert this time.

"You know we do have furniture that's for sitting," he joked as he picked up the casserole and headed for the kitchen.

She followed him into the kitchen, which was just as cluttered at the living room. She watched Finn place the dish on the counter, peeking under the foil. "I would totally eat this now but I think if I put anything else in my stomach tonight it will be bad news for everyone," he admitted, sliding the dish on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.

Emma nodded, unsure of what to say. "So how are you doing?" she muttered.

"Good, now that you're here," he smiled. "Not that you have to stay if you don't want to."

"No, no, I can stay for a minute," she assured him, watching him move a stack of newspaper from the couch and motion for her to sit down. "You must be lonely after spending today by yourself."

"Yeah, but it's okay," he muttered as he sat down on the couch. "We're not celebrating until everybody gets back, but my mom left some cake."

"Celebrating?" she frowned, giving Finn a curious look. "Who's birthday is it?"

Finn looked down at his fingers as he picked at a couch cushion, feeling a little embarrassed as he answered her. "Mine. It's mine today."

"Finn!" she exclaimed, feeling a little embarrassed. "Why didn't you tell me? And you're spending it all alone?" She frowned again.

"It's not a big deal, really," he shook his head. "Do you go around telling people when it's your birthday?"

She shrugged, seeing his point. "Well, Happy Birthday," she told him, smiling at him. "I'm glad I stopped by so you don't have to spend today alone."

"Me too," he smiled weakly. "It totally sucks that somebody has to die for this to happen. I wish you could just come over all the time."

Emma shifted a little in her seat, blushing in spite of herself as she looked at her feet. "It has been nice getting to spend time with you in the past few weeks," she smiled.

"Really?" he dared to ask. "Sometimes I just don't get it."

"What don't you get?" Her brow knitted in confusion.

"Uh...nothing," he replied, chasing his thoughts away as he sat sideways on the couch. "So what have you been up to?"

Emma bit her lip, though she let the topic drop. "You know, the usual...just relaxing a lot at home."

"Is this what you look like when you relax at home?" he raised an eyebrow, gesturing towards the nervous position she was perched in on the edge of the sofa.

"Oh, um..." she looked a sheepish, willing herself to lean back on the couch, relaxing a little. "It just takes me, you know, a little while to adjust to places I'm not familiar with," she told him, knowing that was only half the reason for her tenseness.

"Is it the mess?" he frowned. "I'm sorry about that. Usually it's a little better when Kurt's around."

"No, no, it's fine," she assured him, proving her point as she kicked off her shoes and fell back against the cushions. "Don't worry about it."

"So this is exciting," he teased, shifting uncomfortably from the silence.

"Right up there with swinging and sliding," she teased.

"Hey, what are you trying to say?" he grinned, "I thought it was fun."

"No, no, it was," she assured him. "And I think just talking to you is fun too."

"Well you're pretty lucky. Cause girls pretty much line up outside my house every day to talk to me but I only let the best ones in."

She gave him a playful shove, pretending to glare at him.

"Okay that's a lie," he held up his hands and smirked. "I only let you in. Because you feed me."

"And I only feed you because I'd be sad if you starved to death and couldn't keep me company," she retorted jokingly.

"I'm confused," he frowned thoughtfully. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"Take it as a compliment," she laughed. "I just mean to say that I enjoy your company."

He shrugged. "You could probably just get a big dog and that would do the same trick."

"No, a dog would lick me, and shed, and leave unwanted messes everywhere. I'm hoping you're not going to do any of those," she winked at him.

"N-no," he stammered, feeling his blood rush south as her words bounced around his head. "You're right, I'm definitely better than a dog. Geez, you know how to make a guy feel good on his birthday."

"I try," she shrugged, giggling a little. "I still feel bad I didn't know," she told him. "I would've gotten you something...you know, as a friend."

"Wait," he gasped. "We're friends?"

"Oh, you stop that," she whined, nudging him again.

"So what's the catch?" he squinted. "Are you after my money or something? My classic rock collection? I don't get it."

"I don't know, would you believe me if I just told you that you were a likable guy?" she laughed.

"I like that: 'Finn Hudson: A likeable guy.' I need that on a t-shirt or something."

"Maybe that will be your birthday present," she teased him, leaning her head back against the cushion as she turned to catch his gaze.

He leaned back as well, feeling a little bold from her playful grin. "Would you believe me if I told you that you were pretty likable yourself?"

She blushed, rolling her eyes a little. "Yeah, me and all my crazy..."

"Yeah you and all your crazy," he answered softly as he smiled at her. "Crazy smart. Crazy kind. Crazy beautiful," he whispered, feeling his fingers gravitate upwards as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Finn..." she whispered, suddenly realizing how close his face was to hers. She stopped breathing for a moment, their eyes locking as he reached to touch her hair again.

"You're crazy perfect," he concluded as his fingers traced her soft jawline, leaning closer as he watched her glance drop down to his lips. "And I think-"

Finn jolted back as his words were chopped off by the chime of the doorbell bouncing off the living room walls.

Emma coughed, flushing beat red, her eyes filled with panic as she glanced from Finn to the door.

"I...hold on," he shot up, hurrying to the window to see who he would be murdering in the next five minutes. When he saw the familiar truck he rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" he grunted.

"W-who is it?" Emma stammered, her eyes flying toward her shoes and her purse, wondering how quickly she could leave without being seen.

"It's just Puck," he muttered, letting the blinds drop as the doorbell rang for the tenth time. "I'll tell him to leave it's okay."

She stood, looking nervously toward the door as Finn went to answer it, formulating a thousand explanations in her mind as Finn opened the door, his massive frame shielding Emma from Puck's field of view.

"Hey birthday boy," Puck grinned, taking off his sunglasses and sliding them into his jacket. "You ready to become a man tonight?"

Emma slowly edged herself away from the couch, slipping into the kitchen as Finn led Puck into the family room.

"Will you just get out of here?" Finn barked, wondering where she had disappeared as Puck flopped into Burt's recliner. "I already have plans and I'm not interested in spending my birthday at whatever sleazy hole in the wall you think you're taking me to."

"Plans? What with that hot red head? You can get with her later. Dude, you know it doesn't count if you cheat on your birthday, right?"

The color drained from Emma's cheeks and she gripped onto the countertop, trying to keep her breathing controlled.

"No, just...we broke up, ok? I just want to go to bed, and I just want you to get up and fucking leave!"

"Jesus, man, where's the love?" Puck flipped the recliner down, standing and patting Finn on the shoulder. "I'm starving. Have you got anything to eat? Let's fix me a sandwich."

Hearing their footsteps approach the kitchen, Emma darted for the steps leading upstairs, her bare feet padding softly against the carpet.

"Who's car is that out front?" Puck asked, pulling open the refrigerator door. "I feel like I've seen it before."

Emma stopped halfway up the stairs, unable to breathe as she waited for Finn's reply.

"What car?"

"The black one," Puck answered, pulling Emma's casserole off the bottom shelf. "Jackpot, this looks good."

"It's my aunt's, she rode down to Cincinnati with my parents for the funeral. Put that back man."

"Are you lying to me?" Puck raised an eyebrow as he ripped the foil off the top of the dish.

"You got a girl in here or something? Cause just say the word and I'll leave you to your awkward birthday sex."

Not wanting to hear anymore, Emma finished her ascent up the stairs, swallowing as she looked down the dark hallway, pushing open a door near the end of the hall that was slightly ajar, toning out the voices below as she shut it quietly behind her.

She let out a sigh, leaning against the door as she took in her surroundings. The room wasn't messy, but it wasn't neat either. A couple large t-shirts littered the floor and the bureau tops were far from organized. She noticed his Power Ranger t-shirt tossed onto his cowboy bedspread, gulping a little as she peered nervously around the room. She glanced at his dressers, cluttered with trophies from various sports. A couple old homework assignments were littered across his desk, and as she took a closer look, she noticed a pile of pink slips piled in the corner, blushing when she immediately recognized her own handwriting on the hall passes.

She was about to leave, knowing she was intruding, when a familiar image on his nightstand caught her eye. She walked over to his bed side, picking up the postcard she had sent him, her eyes widening when she saw how worn and bent up the edges of the card were, as if it had been folded and unfolded many times.

Feeling a little hot, she sat down against the edge of the bed, closing her eyes, as if withdrawing herself from the situation would make it go away.

"Just take it," Finn snapped, shoving the entire casserole dish into Puck's arms as he threw the fork his friend had been using into the sink. "Take it and get out of here. Please," he asked earnestly.

Puck squinted curiously at him, starting to respond and then shaking his head in agreement. "Fine. But I really wish I knew what the hell is up with you tonight. Did something happen? I'm sorry about your grandma and all."

"It's my great aunt, and I'll be fine," Finn answered, leading him back through the living room. "I just really don't need you to be here right now."

"Whatever," Puck replied, grabbing his keys off the recliner. Finn noticed his friend's gaze stop dead cold at the sight of Emma's gold shoes sitting beside the couch.

"Just please leave," Finn begged softly, watching Puck's eyebrows raise towards him in acknowledgment.

"Wow, man," he smirked, smacking Finn one last time on the shoulder as he walked towards the door. "I never knew you had it in you. Wow."

Finn swallowed heavily, as the door shut, convincing himself that he would deal with that problem later. "Emma?" he called out tentatively, opening the hall closet and shutting it as he wondered where she had disappeared. After checking the downstairs bathroom and laundry room, he wandered up the stairs, noticing his bedroom door had been shut. He took a deep breath as he turned the doorknob, wondering what on earth he could say after everything that had happened.

She opened her eyes, feeling a little queasy, unable to say anything as Finn entered the room.

He put his hands behind his back awkwardly, shaking the scenes from too many dreams out of his brain as he searched for something to say. "So I guess now I won't need to give you a tour or anything," he smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry, Finn," she found herself apologizing. "I shouldn't have even come here in the first place tonight..."

"No, don't say that," he shook his head, sitting next to her on his bed. "He's an asshole. An asshole who took your dish."

"Darn, that was my favorite casserole dish," she managed to joke, but her throat was tight as she spoke.

"Really? Crap, I'll see if I can get it back," he frowned and scratched at his head.

"No, no, don't worry about it," she assured him. She glanced over toward him, letting out a sigh. "I should be leaving now."

"But you just got here."

"Carl and I are going out for dinner tonight," she lied.

"Oh," he nodded, twisting his mouth in disapproval. "Well okay then. I don't want to make you late."

She immediately felt guilty, but the feelings coursing through frightened her. She stood, rising from the bed. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday, Finn."

"Yeah, sure whatever," he muttered, following her out of his room and down the stairs. "So what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'm busy, Finn," she muttered, choking over her words a little. "My husband and I have plans.

"Yeah well, be sure and tell him I said hi," he snapped a little too quickly as he watched her put on her shoes in record time.

She pursed her lips into a thin line, saying nothing as she walked toward the door. Biting her lip, she turned around, glancing at Finn. "Bye," she whispered.

"Wait, hold on," he started, reaching for the door as she started to shut it. "You know I didn't..." he looked down at the door mat, "I didn't ask you to come over here."

"I know," she spoke softly, fixing her eyes on her feet, not daring to look at his eyes.

"And I would..." he swallowed, feeling his insides twist, "never do anything I didn't think you wanted me to do."

"I know," she repeated, digging her toe into the mat.

"Okay then," he looked up, frowning at her lack of a response. "Well I guess I'll see you around."

She nodded, swallowing a gulp a cool evening air, whispering another goodbye as she walked toward her car.


	13. Chapter 13

"Is everything okay, gorgeous?" Carl asked as he crawled into bed beside her, frowning a little as she turned away, squeezing her eyes closed.

She had been on edge all evening, the events from earlier eating away at her. She tucked her face into her pillow, flinching when she felt Carl's hand gently touch her hair.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he whispered, scooting closer to her.

"Just tired," she lied, willing herself to relax a little as his fingers worked at her hair.

"That's it," she could feel his smile. "Just relax. I'll give you a back rub." Carl rubbed gentle circles against her back through the flimsy material of her nightgown. She closed her eyes once again, letting her muscles relax.

But she gasped a little when his fingers lifted the gown up, dancing across her bare skin. "Relax," he commanded again, bringing his lips the edge of her jaw, his body moving closer to hers.

Finn's face flashed in her mind, causing her heart to stop for a moment.

"No, no, no!" she said too quickly, causing Carl to flinch in surprise. "Not tonight, Carl. Not tonight..."

He frowned again, looking a little concerned. "Okay, okay," he defended himself. "But are you okay, Ems? We can talk if you need to," he assured her.

She nodded vigorously into her pillow. "I'm fine, Carl. Let's just go to sleep," she sighed reaching for the lamp switch, snuggling under the blankets in the darkness.

"Goodnight, gorgeous," Carl sighed, the bed shifting as he rolled over onto his side, his breathing quickly becoming even.

She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh, letting her mind go blank as she drifted off into a fitful slumber.

Just as she had begun to doze, she felt Carl shift, moving closer to her again, curling his body up beside hers. She was about to gently push him away, but his warm body brought her sudden comfort. He began to rub her back again, and she tensed at first, but his hands were deliberate and soothing, and she smiled in spite of herself.

"That feels nice," she sighed, snuggling a little closer as she felt his lips brush her neck.

She pushed away her uneasiness, losing herself in his soft touch, letting it comfort her rather than agitate her.

His hands moved to her stomach, making it flutter as she turned, her eyes closed as she nuzzled his neck. "Sorry for how I acted before," she quietly apologized, automatically beginning to grind her hips against his, moaning softly as his lips grazed her throat.

She let her leg wrap around his waist as his hand rested against the small of her back, pushing her closer to his body. He kissed her jaw, his fingers tangling in her hair as he hovered over her, his breath hot against her face as he dipped down to kiss her.

She let out another moan, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Panting a little, she pulled away, opening her eyes as she smiled up at-"Finn?"

She let out a yelp as her eyes immediately flew open, a little hot as she flailed in the darkness for a moment, feeling panicked and dirty.

She caught her breath, practically jumping when Carl let out a grunt, her face flushing as she buried it in her pillow, trying to erase the images and feelings branded in her mind.

XXXX

On Monday morning, Finn's car slowly curled its way around the wide cul-de-sac as he squinted at the numbers on the mailboxes, her address scribbled on the piece of napkin latched between his fingers. He stopped the car out front, feeling his stomach churn nervously even though there was no Corvette in the driveway. Frowning a little at the massive brick house that loomed over him, he kicked the car door shut with his foot as he gripped the paper bag and tiny flower pot in his hands.

As he hurried up the walkway, he wondered whether wasting his entire paycheck on a single piece of clothing was the most idiotic thing he had ever done. He had doubled checked, no triple checked, to make sure it was the smallest size they had. Squatting down, he hung the bag on the doorknob and set the tiny yellow pot on the ground beside the door, brushing a bit of stray dirt off the delicate purple petals with his clumsy fingertips. He tucked the card through the crack in the door, pushed the doorbell, and ran like a mad man back to his car, not even stopping to buckle his seatbelt as he gunned it down the street.

Finn's phone had pretty much stayed permanently attached to his right hand for three days. He had held it in front of his face while he ate his cereal in the morning, squeezed it between his fingers as he drove to and from work, and curled it in fist when he slept fitfully. On the third day, just when he was starting to wonder whether he had left the gift at the wrong house or something, he got the text.

XXXX

She checked her watch, waiting for him at the park bench she remembered laughing on with him only a week before. She sighed, glancing nervously at the bag beside her, taking in a breath as she noticed the tall figure lumbering toward her.

"I knew you'd want want to come back," he grinned, sitting down beside her. "Only this time it's your turn to push."

She looked at him with her wide eyes, sucking in a breath. "I'm not here to play."

"That's cool," he nodded, feeling his chest start to pound from the look she gave him. "We can just talk," he looked down at his shoes. "I've been going a little crazy not talking to you this week and my head keeps getting all backed up with all these things."

"Finn..." she gulped, reaching for the bag resting beside her, handing it to Finn. "I invited you here today because...because I think it's best if we don't, you know, see each other for a little while..." she bit her lip, unable to look at him.

"Does it not fit?" he asked softly, not wanting to believe what he thought she was saying.

"You're a great kid," she assured him, fighting the urge to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. "But I think we both need to focus on our own lives right now. You're eighteen; you need to be out having fun with your friends-friends your own age. Not with me, Finn."

"Believe it or not, I know how old I am." He set the bag down beside him, taking an uneasy breath. "I didn't think that mattered to you."

She felt her voice grow tight. "Finn, I'm your guidance counselor," she reminded him, her voice barely a whisper as she continued. "And that's all I will ever be."

"Oh, I get it," he looked away, feeling his stomach tighten in panic. "So you're telling me all these weeks have just been you doing your job? Taking care of me, like I'm some kind of sad kid assignment? Wow, I have to say you're really committed to your work."

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't like that, but she couldn't defend herself without stepping over boundaries she was trying to uncross. "It was unfair of me to let things go this far. And I'm sorry for that."

"Well, I'm not sorry," he shook his head. "And I don't think you are either."

She took in a deep breath, having nothing to retaliate with. "I need to go now."

"That's it?" he stood quickly , feeling his voice crack from anger. "You just...use me...while you're bored and then throw me away?"

"Finn, you know it's not like that." She felt tears sting in the corners of her eyes.

"Then what is it like?"

"You're a great kid, Finn...and I enjoy your company, probably more than I should," she coughed, quickly moving on. "But we can't keep doing this..."

"Jesus, can you just stop calling me a fucking kid!" he coughed out at the ground, unable to look at her as he paced a little. "Just stop. You don't 'enjoy my company.'" He stopped, sitting back down beside her and daring a glance as he rested his palm on her shoulder. "You care about me, and that scares the crap out of you."

"Stop it, Finn," she swiped at her tears furiously. "Stop it. You don't know me, or what I'm feeling, and don't pretend you do." She let out a shuddering breath.

"I don't know you?" Finn's mind rewound over the weeks they had spent together. "Then who does? Carl?" he asked bitterly.

She choked out a small sob, wiping her watery eyes. She wrapped her arms around her torso, refusing to look at him.

"I...shouldn't have said that," he began, feeling his heart break as his hand settled on her back, moving in small, hopeful circles. "Please, I'm sorry," he begged. "Just tell me what you need me to do...to fix this."

"Just let me go," she swallowed, her voice coming out in a strained whisper. "Just let me go, Finn."

"I don't even have you," he thought out loud, lifting his palm off of her back as he swallowed thickly. "But I'm sorry. God...I'm such an idiot. Buying you stupid gifts, getting that job at the mall, I really am pathetic aren't I?"

"Don't say that, Finn," she muttered thickly. She wanted to tell him that she had done the same-making him cupcakes, making extra trips to J. Crew. But Finn was right. She was scared. She was scared of what she felt for him, and she was scared to admit that she cared a lot more than she should've. "One of these days, you're gonna make some girl really happy," she tried to smile though her tears.

He nodded, feeling his chest tighten. "Are you happy? 'Cause I really wish you were."

"I'm happy, Finn," she assured him, not sure if her words were a lie or not. "I promise, I am happy," she affirmed, more for herself than Finn.

"Well then that's all I need to know," he exhaled, putting his hands on his knees and standing. "Just take it," he mumbled, scooting the bag towards her. "I can't return it. It's too embarrassing."

She gulped, nodding as she gripped the bag, shaking a little as she stood. "Bye, Finn," she managed to mutter.

"Sure Ms. Pillsbury," he coughed out awkwardly, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess I'll see you at school or something."

She nodded, sniffing a little as she caught his gaze, her heart breaking as she registered the painful look in his eyes.

He said nothing as she walked away, her heels clicking against the pavement as she focused her eyes on her feet, trying not to cry. As she neared the end of the path, she turned around, daring one last glance at Finn, but he was already gone.


	14. Chapter 14

"Finn, this is Spanish I. You're in the wrong class," Mr. Schuester frowned, running his pen down his list of names for third period.

"I know, but that's what my schedule says," Finn argued, nodding awkwardly as the tiny freshmen sitting in tables surrounding him eyed him in confusion.

"Did you ever think to maybe get that fixed?" his teacher raised on eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal, really."

"You really should have gotten this fixed yesterday Finn, at registration." he sighed, scribbling out a hall pass for him. "Go see Ms. Pillsbury."

"No!" Finn blurted, a little too loudly. "I mean, I suck at Spanish. I think taking it again will be good for me and..." he stopped as he saw Mr. Schue's eyes go towards the ceiling in frustration. Grabbing his backpack off the floor, he ambled towards the door and out into the hallway.

The last few weeks of summer had dragged by, especially in comparison to the first few months, and Emma had been glad to return back to school. She was already feeling a bit tired and flustered, having kids with scheduling errors in and out of her office all morning, but the business was better than the alternative of giving her mind too much time to wander. She heard a hesitant knock on her door, and without looking up, flipping through a stack of papers, she answered. "Come in."

He stopped in front of her desk, coughing awkwardly as he dropped the crumpled copy of his schedule on her desk. "I need a class changed," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes.

She looked up, recognizing the voice immediately, her breath catching as her eyes fell on him. She licked her lips, unable to speak for a moment as she smoothed out his schedule. "Of course," she muttered, her eyes darting from the paper to his own eyes. "What, um, what class you need me to change?"

"Spanish," he answered, fighting the urge to take a step back and sit down and fall into old habits.

She nodded, glancing down at the sheet. "You need it switched Spanish IV?" she clarified, feeling uneasy as she tried not to look at him.

"No, definitely no. For my sake and Mr. Schue's I think we should avoid that."

"So you want to drop it?" she asked. "Because I can't put you anywhere else but Spanish IV without you repeating.

"Yeah it's fine I've got enough credits that I can use a study hall or something," he frowned, feeling a jab of hurt from the lack of emotion in her words. It was as if someone had hit the rewind button on everything.

"Are you sure?" she asked again, biting her lip a little, immediately regretting her decision to catch his gaze. "We can, you know, always look at other electives during that period if you'd like."

"Well you can look, but I'm pretty sure Cosmetology is the only elective third period," he joked as he sat down, "and believe it or not that's just really not one of my talents."

Her lips curved into an involuntary smile, her heart fluttering a little as the she recalled how things used to be, feeling a little melancholy. "So how was the rest of your summer?" she dared to ask.

"The rest of my summer...is over," he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "And that's really all that matters. So can you change it?"

Her throat tightened. She nodded, turning to her computer and printing him off a fixed copy. "Be sure to stop down if you need anything else," she said quietly as she handed the paper to him.

Finn nodded, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed the tiny flower pot he had given her sitting on the windowsill. "So...your summer was good, and everything?"

Her stomach dropped a little as she reached to straighten at stack of papers on her desk. "It was, um...it was fine," she told him, leaving it at that.

And just as he was thinking that something seemed off about her appearance, Finn's eyes froze on her left hand. He opened his mouth to say he should be getting back to class (not that he had a class to get back to anymore), and nothing came out.

She swallowed, his sudden hesitance making her uneasy. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Finn?" she muttered quietly.

He shook his head as he eased up out of the chair, tucking his schedule in his back pocket. "I guess not. Have a nice year," he mumbled as he pushed open the glass door, feeling more confused than usual.

XXXXXX

School had only been in session for a week, but Emma had quickly fallen back into her normal schedule, though she found herself staying later most evenings, her empty condo no longer inviting. She felt lonely, and she had felt her chest tighten when she admitted how much she missed Finn's consistent visits, trying in vain to push any memory of the boy out of her mind when the her ringing phone startled her.

She picked up the phone, answering it, her voice a little tired. "Emma Pillsbury, guidance, how can I help you?" she spoke her automatic greeting.

"Yes, Mrs. Pillsbury, this is Principal Figgins. I have two parents here who would like to talk to you about their son. I am going to send them down if you are not currently occupied," he informed her.

"Of course," Emma answered, hanging up her phone as she waited.

"I feel like we're just giving up," Carole Hummel sighed as they stopped briefly at the 'Guidance' sign, following the brown arrow that pointed down the hallway. "He's my son and I'm just going to ask some stranger who doesn't even know him to fix this?"

"We only know what he tells us," Burt reminded her, his voice echoing off the empty hallway as he took off his cap, folding it and tucking it into his back pocket. "Who even knows the junk he deals with during the day? I think it's worth a shot," he shrugged, stopping in front of the glass office and tapping lightly on the door.

Emma looked up, her stomach dropping as she recognized the couple immediately, fidgeting a little as she waved them in. "Hi, um..." she answered, motioning for them to take a seat. "How can I help you?"

"Uh, hi Mrs..." Burt began, looking back towards the name plate hanging outside the door for assistance as he held the door open for his wife. "Pillsbury-Howell, is it? I'm Burt Hummel. This is my wife Carole," he motioned as they both took a seat.

Her cheeks turned red as she looked down at her feet stammering a little. "Um, just Ms. Pillsbury is fine," she coughed, moving on. "I, you know, assume you're here to talk about Finn. Because Kurt no longer attends this school so of course you'd be here to talk about Finn. Because that would, um, only make sense..." she bit her lip, stopping herself mid-ramble.

"Well, actually I was thinking about enrolling. You know it's never too late to get an education," Burt joked.

"Stop that," Carole interjected, swatting at her husband a little as she smiled sadly at Emma.

"Yes, it's about Finn. But we want you know that he doesn't know we're here. And that what we want to talk to you about just stays in this room," she spoke gravely.

"Of course," Emma nodded at the pair, suddenly feeling a little uneasy, panicking a little as the thought of the postcard and hall passes she had found up in Finn's room, wondering if his parents had stumbled upon these items-or even worse, that Finn had mentioned something to them. "Everything we talk about will stay strictly between us."

"Well, you've probably noticed how he's been acting lately..." Carole began.

"Honey, there are hundreds of kids in this school," Burt interrupted, "and Finn's a good kid. They probably haven't said two words to each other. Do you know Finn? Tall?" he raised his hand in the air to illustrate, looking for a sign of recognition from Emma. "Runs into things a lot?"

She hoped her uneasiness was not too noticeable. She answered, coughing as she found her voice. "Yes, I know Finn. Not well, or anything. But, you know, I've seen him around..." she trailed off.

"Okay good, well let me back things up for a second," Burt nodded, leaning forward on his elbows. "He's a great kid. I consider him my own ya know. And he was doing great this summer. I mean he gets a job, he stops hanging out with those thugs who pick on Kurt," he counted on his fingers as his wife smiled encouragingly at him, "everything's going great. Then he starts coming home with this goofy look on his face. That's when I knew there was trouble."

"Stop that. She was a sweet girl for the most part," Carole corrected him, squeezing her purse in her lap.

Emma felt ill and a little hot, but she forced herself to breathe, trying her best not to think about summer. "Is he not handling the break up well?" she asking innocently.

"That's the thing," Carole frowned. "He doesn't talk about it. He said it was a waste of time and he seemed okay at first. And then he just...oh I don't know," she choked, reaching in her purse from a tissue. "I'm sorry, I told myself I wouldn't do this."

"He just stopped everything," Burt picked up. He quits his job, quits helping me out on the weekends at the shop. Schuester calls us, tells us he stopped showing up for summer practices..."

"Rehearsals," his wife corrected him as she dabbed the corner of her eye. "Summer rehearsals."

Emma frowned, immediately feeling guilty, remembering her and Finn's strained goodbye. "Yeah, it sounds like he's, you know, not handling the break up well. Dating an older girl and dealing with that disappointment of rejection isn't always easy on a kid. She reached for her mug of pens, straitening the writing utensils as she nervously rambled.

"You know I told him that," Burt sighed. "I told him seeing someone older wasn't worth the heartache. Not that a kid will ever listen."

"He told you?" Carole squinted in confusion as she looked back at Emma. "He told you about her? How do you know she was older?"

"No," she answered immediately, realizing her mistake, panicking as she scrambled to fix it. "I mean yes. He's been in here a few times, and he mentioned her a little. Kind of just implied that she was older. I just, you know, assumed." She stopped for a breath, nervously plucking at the brooch on her cardigan.

"Really?" Carole smiled hopefully. "He did? Oh that is so good, I've been trying to talk to him for weeks and he just shuts the door in my face. What did he say?"

"Well, that has to stay between me and Finn. He has a right to privacy when talking to me, even when it comes to his parents," she explained, feeling a little better as Mrs. Hummel bought her lie. "But you know, we're talking things through. You guys are handling this the right way, by showing your concern, and I'm sure Finn will return to his old self in no time if you continue to be encouraging." She smiled.

"Look," Burt frowned, putting out a hand to silence her. "I know you mean well and all, and believe me, I am grateful that you're helping the kid out. But can I ask you a question? Do you have kids Mrs. Pillsbury?"

Emma shook her head no, looking down at her feet, and then back to Mr. Hummel's eyes, a little unsure where he was going with his remark.

"Okay, well when _my_ kid doesn't have the will to get out of bed in the morning for an entire month, I can't just sit around and wait for him to come around."

"Honey," Carole interjected. "She understands that."

"I know," Burt stood, pacing a little behind his chair. "But I just wanna find that spoiled little twerp, and tell her what's right. Tell her _my_ son is the best thing that could have happened to her and that's it. End of story," he sliced through the air with his hand to punctuate the end of his sentence as he flopped down into his chair in frustration.

"We're obviously still very concerned," Carole frowned, reaching over to squeeze her husband's hand.

"I understand that," Emma sympathized, letting out a sigh. "I'm worried about him, too," she told them genuinely, the guilt tugging deeper at her gut. "And I'll do all I can on my end," she found herself promising. "I'll see if Finn is up for making our appointments more regular, you know, to see if talking more can help pull him out of this funk."

"Thank you," Carole smiled. "I think that would really help. This year is so important for his future and I'd hate to see him just throw it away."

"Exactly," Burt added. "We're not letting him do that. Mrs. Pillsbury you just need to find out what he needs and give it to him. Can you do that?"

Her mind automatically flashed to the dream she had worked so hard to repress, gulping a little as she forced a smile, reassuring Mr. Hummel. "Of course. Finn is a great kid. I'll do whatever I can." Her voice was feeble as she made the promise.

"Please, please, don't hesitate to call if there's any way we can help," Carole added, standing from her chair. "Oh, look honey," she pointed at the windowsill. "She has one of those little violets like the one Finn got me for my birthday."

She was quick to usher them out of her office, muttering the appropriate goodbyes accompanied by a reassuring smile, feeling a little weak as she closed the door behind them, burying her face in her hands in frustration as she sat back down at her desk.


	15. Chapter 15

"My parents...came here? What did they say?"

Emma bit her lip, wondering if she should've spoken at all. "Just what I said before...they're worried because you don't seem like yourself lately." Emma felt guilty once again, hating that it had to be her fault.

"Yeah, I know that." He raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

"That of course I'd do everything I could to make sure you would be okay," she answered immediately, letting out another sigh. "I told them I'd have you come down for regular appointments, as long as you were willing..."

"Oh. Well that's just great," he sighed, his eyes lingering on her puzzled face before he let a laugh escape. And another laugh. "I'm sorry," he held up a hand, rubbing his forehead with his fingers as he bit back another one.

"Why are you sorry?" she muttered, feeling puzzled.

"It's just kind of funny, don't you think?" he grinned a little. "They come to ask you for help fixing my problems, and they don't even realize my problem is sitting in front of them. _You're_ my problem." He stopped laughing as she frowned, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

Emma looked away, licking her lips nervously. "Finn...I..." she coughed. "I realize that, which is why I want to help so much," she muttered. "I don't want you to be upset on account of me..."

"Well, no offense, but it's a little late for that," he shrugged. "But I'll be okay. It just takes some time to get over somebody you're crazy about. I wish it didn't, but it does."

Emma let out another cough, smoothing her skirt. "I know," she sighed. "I know its hard. But, you know, just because we may want something doesn't always mean its always the best thing for us...but that doesn't mean everything has to change..." she gave him a feeble smile, hoping that he would eventually forgive her.

"Well, as much as I appreciate that, Ms. Pillsbury," he said, her last name rolling awkwardly off his tongue, "I'd like a few things to change," he said thoughtfully as he watched her hands move across her skirt. "If we're going to keep meeting together."

She frowned a little, giving him a curious look. "Of course." She crossed uncrossed her legs, smoothing her skirt.

"Okay, so first I think..." he twisted his mouth as he searched for the right words, feeling his pulse pick up a little as his glance dropped from her bare legs to the floor. "I think you should sit behind your desk more. It's a nice desk. And well...I'd be more comfortable with that. "

Emma flushed crimson, nervously shifting her legs as she glanced from Finn's eyes to her legs. She stood, blushing deeper as she took her seat behind the desk, crossing her legs out of sight. She took in a breath, awkwardly continuing. "Okay, what else?" she dared to ask.

"Okay let me think," he mused, suddenly feeling a little more comfortable with the needed distance she had created between them. "Can you...not laugh at my jokes? You have a really nice laugh," he nodded gravely.

Now she rolled her eyes, clamping her hand over her mouth as she pushed back a laugh. "Now you're just being ridiculous."

"I'm serious!" he grinned. "And don't use my name either."

"What do you want me to call you then, Mr. Hudson?" she laughed, forgetting the rule as they fell back into their natural banter.

"Okay. Scratch that. That's even worse."

"By the time you're done with your silly regulations, I'm not even going to be able to talk," she bit her tongue to keep from laughing again. "And you'll probably make me wear a paper bag over my head."

"Nah, I'll let that slide," he shook his head. "But, um...is there anything you need me to...ya know...change?"

"I think I can manage, Finn," she laughed a little again, giving him a small smile, letting him know she was glad that they could be comfortable together again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_One week later_

"I-I don't really want to talk about it, Finn," she spoke, her voice a little shaky as she followed Finn's gaze back down to her bare finger. He had stopped by at the end of the day just to say a quick goodbye as he usually did now, and he had easily picked up on Emma's distraught state.

"Okay," he nodded, unconvinced. "But do you have somebody...anybody you can talk about it with?"

"I'm okay, Finn," she sighed, weakening a little as she caught his gaze. "Our marriage just wasn't meant to be. And that's that," she sighed, rubbing her bare finger anxiously.

"Well, no offense," he began, leaning forward in his seat a little, "but from my experience, being 'just okay' kind of sucks. I always thought a person was supposed to shoot for better than okay..." he smiled weakly.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, licking her lips as she looked back at Finn. "I'll get there," she promised feebly.

"It's just kind of funny when you think about it..." he started, before stopping himself and shaking his head.

"No, what were you gonna say?" Emma prodded gently, leaning forward as she let out a sigh.

"Well," he chewed on his bottom lip a little. "I mean a lot of your job and all...is sort of helping kids figure out what makes them happy. You know...taking chances and stuff. And maybe it's just me," he said a little more softly as he looked down, "but I kinda get the feeling that you've haven't exactly got that figured out yourself."

She was about to scold him gently, telling him that his words were not his place to share, but instead she sighed again. "It sometimes takes a while for people to figure that out," she said sadly. "Even for guidance counselors," she smiled a little.

"You what I heard is great for someone trying to figure it out?"

She looked up, shaking her head.

"Talking to somebody about it."

She nodded. "I will," she told him, only to appease him.

He laughed a little. "God, you're a really bad liar. Another thing we have in common."

She smiled a little. "Stop worrying, Finn. I'm okay-I'm great," she amended. "And I can deal with this on my own."

"You should make a CD of those motivational phrases," he teased. "People could play them in their car on the way to work."

"Oh you shush," she said, grinning a little, though her voice still held a hint of tears.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_One week later_

"Honestly, it wasn't my fault she gave me a detention. I thought she was joking. Of course it's hard to tell since her forehead doesn't move anymore. You could project a power point on it, it's so frozen."

Emma snorted a little. "It's not as bad as Mrs. Landon's nose job. I thought those were for _fixing _your nose." She bit her lip again, sure that one of the teachers they had mentioned would soon burst through her door.

"That's a nose job? I always thought she got hit with a hockey puck," his eyes widened. "I saw her take her wig off once. It shaved like five years off of my life easy."

"Let's not even get started on faculty members' hair," Emma laughed, finding the forbidden gossiping to be much too addicting.

"Really? Cause I was gonna tell you about the time I convinced a freshman that Mr. Schue wears a wig."

Emma began laughing again, catching her breath as she answered. "Seriously, he must put an ungodly amount of product in his hair."

"Oh god, it's worst on the days he's in a hurry," he grimaced. "Once he leaned over to look at a test I was taking and a big juicy glob of it fell onto my paper."

"As much as I'd like to continue this discussion about Mr. Schuester's hair, I'm required to give you a lecture about why it's not okay to talk back to teachers," Emma let out a sigh, still smiling as she glanced back at the long note Mrs. Hoffmeyer had sent down with Finn about his conduct.

"Go for it," he nodded, still grinning a little. "Although I think you have to stop smiling before you punish me."

"What if I talk to you like this?" she asked, placing a hand in front of her mouth to hide the smile that wasn't leaving anytime soon. "Now you can't tell I'm smiling," she said, her voice a little muffled.

"Well I would say something," he laughed. "But I'm not supposed to talk back to teachers."

"I think you've learned your lesson," she winked, reaching for Mrs. Hoffmeyer's note. "Should I send her a detailed note back explaining that your behavior shouldn't be an issue anymore?"

"Don't bother," he admitted. "She doesn't read anything you write. Let's just say she's not the biggest fan of you either."

"Oh?" Emma asked curiously, trying to sound blasé. "What does she, um, say about me?

"It's not important," he shook his head. "Is that it for today?"

"Oh, come on, you were willing to gossip five minutes ago," Emma huffed, feeling a little annoyed.

"Look, she's a grumpy old lady, and she's just jealous of what other people say about you. I wouldn't worry about it," he stood, picking up his backpack.

"Sorry, I was letting my curiosity get the best of me." She signed his pass, handing it back to him.

Finn smiled sadly at her, as he tucked the hall pass into his pocket. Thinking about all the gossip and hurtful things his classmates had said about her habits, comments that had gotten him into arguments on more than one occasion. "They just say you're super nice. And that they wished you were a teacher, so that they had an excuse to see you every day."

She didn't quite believe him, letting it go, knowing he was only protecting her. "You're a great kid, Finn," she sighed, smiling at him. "Now get back to class before I have to give you another detention."


	16. Chapter 16

"Dude, Super Mario Brothers 2? Are you fucking kidding me?" Puck laughed, crunching a stray can underneath his shoe as he leaned against his truck in the grocery store parking lot. "Everyone knows that Super Mario Brothers 3 is the best. He can fly. And there are magic whistles."

"You're an idiot, And I'd rather be in bed right now that hanging out like a loser with you."

"Relax man," he said, hopping up on the side of his truck. "They'll be here. And they're hot. Thanks for the trust."

"Whatever," Finn sighed again, feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket, hoping it was his mom yelling at him to come back home. He blinked a few times when he saw her name flash on the screen, walking around to the other side of his car for some privacy.

"Who is it man?"

"Just shut up." He waved his friend away as he took a breath answered the call. "Hello?"

Emma giggled into the phone, her head spinning a little as she placed her drink back on the counter, her legs swinging as she sat on the bar stool. "Hi, there," she slurred, giggling some more.

"Uh, hi," he swallowed, kicking Puck back with his leg as he climbed into his car and rolled the window up. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great," she drew out the 'r' in the word for too long, snorting a little, though her mouth quickly turned into a frown. "But why aren't you here? The nice man here says he doesn't know where you are either, and it makes me sad 'cause I'm having so much fun." her lip curved into a pout as she hiccuped delicately.

"Where is here?" he frowned, feeling a little confused as he pulled his keys out of his jacket pocket.

"Um," she said thoughtfully, reaching for her drink again. "Finn asked where we are," she said as she turned to the man sitting beside her, who was now so close that his hand was practically on her stocking clad leg.

"Forget about Finn and come home with me, babe," the man slurred, brushing her knee.

Emma bit her lip, squirming a little uncomfortably. "Finn can you please come now?" she whined.

"Where are you?" he panicked, feeling his adrenaline kick into overdrive as he started his car, ignoring Puck's confused waving as he pulled out out of the parking lot. "And can you just stand outside or somewhere safe?"

"Something-something with a Rose?" she guessed as the man's hand clamped over her thigh.

"Hang up your phone, babe," he whispered, his voice to sweet as his hand wandered farther.

"Finn," she panicked a little. "The nice man...he's...he's not being nice anymore."

"Rosalita's?" What on earth was she doing there? Shaking that thought out his head, he made a sharp left and headed in the opposite direction. "I'm coming but please get up and go somewhere else, like the bathroom or your car?"

"Don't leave," she begged him, scooting away from the man, swatting at his hand to let him know she didn't want what he did. "Can you please come now?" she whimpered, her silly mood fading as she quickly grew upset, trying to make sense of Finn's words but she could hardly see straight.

"I'm not hanging up," he said, wincing a little as he plowed past a stop sign. It was miracle he didn't get pulled over, making it to the other side of town in ridiculous time as he mumbled semi-coherent assurances into the phone until he had pulled into the parking lot of the bar. He slammed the door shut, not even caring he had left the lights on as he hurried up the gravel path, praying to God that they didn't check his ID at the door.

"My head feels spinny," she whined, wishing the man would go away as she continued to scoot in the opposite direction.

Finn pushed his way through the smoky room, leaning over the bar as he swatted at the bartender's sleeve, asking if he had seen a pretty red-head. "You'll have to get in line," the man laughed, his eyes traveling to the end of the bar where a couple gross-looking men circled Emma like vultures.

She spotted him as he crossed the room, her goofy grin coming back despite the circumstances, as he drew nearer.

"Back off," he mumbled, trying to convince himself he wasn't completely terrified as he pushed away the man who was leaning over her. "What are you doing here?" he shouted over the blaring music, counting the empty glasses that sat on the bar in front of her.

She stood, stumbling a little as she fell against him. "You came!" she exclaimed, her head against his chest. "He kept sayin' you wouldn't," she frowned, referring to the man whom Finn had pushed away.

"Did you pay?" he frowned, pulling her arms away from him. "Where's your purse?"

"It's with...it's with my umbrella," she slurred, reaching for her nonexistent items, gripping the edge of the countertop as the room spun.

"Great," he sighed, reaching down to unwrap her purse from the leg of a bar stool. "Let's get out of here. Did you come here by yourself? Ms. Pillsbury?" He grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to face him as he shouted a little louder. "Did you come here by yourself?"

She nodded, latching onto him again. "I'm so glad you're here. I've been wantin' you to come."

"Well I'm here," he sighed, his heart pounding a little from her actions as he pulled away from her wondering how they could weave their way through the crowded room. "And now it's time to go."

"But my umbrella," she whined, planting her feet firmly on the ground, squinting toward the stools. "I forgot my umbrella."

"I'll buy you a new umbrella," he insisted as he pulled a little more urgently on her arms, after he got a few confused glances from the people surrounding them. "Please let's just go."

"A red one?" she insisted, allowing him to lead her. "Because I like my red one and-" she cut off as she reached for his hand, giggling again as she laced her fingers through his.

"Sure, whatever," he mumbled as he pushed open the front door. He squeezed her hand protectively before letting go, reaching in his jacket for his car keys. "I'm over here," he pointed. "You can get your car tomorrow."

"I miss it when we were friends," she sighed, reaching for his hand again, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"Uh-huh, sure you do," Finn sighed, not letting himself believe it was her talking and not the tenth drink she had bought. "Can you just get in the car? Please?"

"Where're we going?" she muttered, missing the snappy tone in his voice as her head began to pound. She closed her eyes as she nuzzled her cheek against his arm.

"Your house," he swallowed, opening the passenger door. "Wherever that is now. Hey, watch your head, silly." He covered the top of her hair with his hand as she climbed in.

"Do we have to go yet?" she implored, snuggling up against him as he slid into the driver's seat. "I like it right here." She smiled as she pressed her lips gently to his neck.

"You do?" His hands freezing on the steering wheel.

"I dreamed about...about this before," she muttered, hardly registering her words as she scooted closer, breathing heavily as she fit her head into the crook of his neck.

"You dreamed about being drunk?" he laughed, his face flushing a little as he started the car, pushing her gently back into her seat as he reached over to buckle her seat belt.

His rejection stung, despite her drunken stupor. She sniffed, glancing at Finn with her wide, watery eyes before reaching to wipe away the tears that inevitably followed.

"Fine, fine go ahead and cry. But do you know have any idea how crazy it was to come? By yourself?" he lectured as he pulled out onto the highway. "You could have gotten hurt. Or worse."

"Stop it, stop it," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "He was out with the other woman...and-and-and I felt so alone," she wailed, hiccupping through her tears.

"Oh. I'm sorry...I didn't know," he frowned, feeling like an idiot for scolding her. "It's just that you're not the first drunk person I've had to take home in my life. And it gets really old sometimes. Do you not...have anybody that you can call? Like a friend?"

"No," she sniffed, her nose running a little from her tears. "You're my only friend," she choked, managing to add. "Were my only friend..."

"Yeah well, that wasn't my decision," he mumbled, stopping at a red light. "Did you move? Or do you still live at the same place?"

She muttered the address to her condo, leaning her head against the cool class of the window. "I don't feel so good..."

"Do you need me to pull over?" He flipped on the air conditioning. "We're pretty close." Reaching over, he gave her knee a reassuring squeeze.

She smiled a little as she felt his hand against her leg, taking in a deep breath as she closed her eyes. "I think I'll be okay."

Finn sighed, feeling the events of the evening add up in his mind and his emotions as Emma slept the rest of the way home. After he pulled into the driveway of her condo, he sat for a second and watched her even breathing against the window. She looked so small. And so sad. "We're home," he said, rubbing her arm gently with his palm.

She yawned, turned toward him, resting her hand on top of his. "I don't want you to go," her voice was thick with tears once again.

"I'm sorry ma'am, that's breaking the rules," he joked, attempting a smile as he patted her hand. "Let's check the meter and oh, yup, that'll be fourteen bucks plus tip."

"Please don't go," she whispered again, her head falling back against his shoulder.

"Fine," he breathed, feeling himself weaken. "But only long enough to make sure you don't fall asleep on the floor. Floor face is not a pretty thing. Not even on you."

She managed a smile, stepping out of the car, leaning against the side as she moaned, a wave of nausea overcoming her.

"Hey, you're not gonna throw up on me are you?" he joked again, looping his arm around her waist to steady her feet as he led her up the walkway. "Cause that would suck."

"I'm o-I'mokay," she muttered again, breathing in a gulp of cool air as they neared the front door. She fumbled for her keys, struggling to unlock the door.

"Geez, you're hammered." Finn struggled to keep her upright with his arms as they stepped into a dark room.

"Thank you, Finn," she sighed, leaning her weight against him. "You're the best."

He slid his palm down the wall blindly until he found the light switch, his eyes wandering around the symmetrically arranged furniture. "Just promise me you won't do that again."

"Promise," she told him, swatting at his chest playfully before stumbling down the hall toward her bedroom. "I need to lie down."

"Okay, well, goodnight!" he called after her. "Maybe drink some water or something."

She stopped, turning around, feeling teary again. "You said you weren't gonna leave me."

"I said I'd make sure you got to bed safe. Unless you think there's a monster under your bed then I think my work is done."

"I'm not in bed yet," she told him. "I got stuff to do before I get into bed."

"Like what?" he frowned, ignoring his conscience as he followed her down the hallway. "I really think you should just get some rest."

"I need to...need to get into my nightgown first, silly," she told him, already out of her pencil skirt, struggling with the buttons of her blouse.

"Whoa, okay," he froze, his hands shooting up in front of his eyes to shield them, but not before he caught a flash of blue. "I think you can handle that," he took a few unsteady steps back, bumping into her bedroom wall before finding his way back into the hallway and remembering to breathe.

"Come back," she pouted, pulling a nightgown over her head as she peaked out the door, not realizing she had put it on backwards.

"Okay see, now you're ready for..." he squinted as his eyes roamed over her. "I think you um...are you sure you put it on right? Not that I'm an expert or anything."

She glanced down, noticing the tag poking out by her chin. "Silly me," she muttered, lifting the gown up again to fix it.

Finn felt his heart stop, too consumed with the image in front of him for his motor skills to kick in or for his jaw to close.

Her hair was a little crazy from the static as she pulled it back into place. fingering the bow on her chest. "There.'

He nodded, frozen in the doorway. "Okay! well there ya go. That wasn't too...painful," he swallowed. "Good night," he waved.

"Finn!" she exclaimed, greeted by a curious look as he poked his head back in. "I'm not in bed yet.

"You're drunk, you're not five," he sighed, staring at her discarded bra on the floor uneasily. "Can I get you anything? Some water? Aspirin?"

"You can stay," she begged, reaching for his arm and latching on. "I don't want to be alone..." she muttered.

"No," he said, softly but sternly. "It isn't right. And it doesn't matter that you're alone because you're gonna fall asleep the second your head hits the pillow."

She sniffed, still holding onto his arm as tears sprung into her eyes, her emotions fluctuating like crazy as the alcohol still clouded her mind. "Finn, you're all I have. Please don't go...Pleeease…"

"Fine, fine, just please stop crying and please lay down," he crumbled, as his chest tightened from her pleas. He supposed he could sleep on her couch and text his parents that he'd be staying at Puck's.

She nodded, wiping her wet cheeks as she kept his arm in her hand, leading him toward the bed.

He kicked his shoes off and dropped his jacket on the floor robotically, reminding himself to breathe as he sat down on the sideof the bed as he watched her pull back the covers and climb in.

"Just stay for a little," she muttered, a little sleepily, snuggling against the pillow as she looked expectantly at him.

"Go to sleep," he prodded, stroking her hair a little as he scooted back a bit farther.

She wiggled so her body was closer to his, smiling a little as her eyes closed. "Feels nice..."

"Yeah?" he grinned, feeling a little selfish for taking advantage of the moment as he twisted her hair between his fingers.

"Yeah, really nice," she sighed. "I'm glad you're here..." she muttered softly.

"Me too," he sighed, losing all will as he stood up to pull back the empty side of the bed. "It's like a dream or something," he mumbled as he climbed in next to her, allotting a respectful two feet separation from her body. Promising himself he'd move to the couch as soon as she drifted off.

She curled up against him before he could protest, burying her nose in the collar of his shirt, sighing as she felt herself begin to drift off.

"Definitely a dream," he said softly as his arms slid around her protectively and his heart thumped in satisfaction. "Best dream ever."

She smiled, letting her eyes completely close as she snuggled up against his warm body, feeling content as she fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

Emma twitched in her sleep, turning her face away from sunlight that streamed through the open blinds. She groaned a little, her head pounding as she kept her eyes squeezed shut. She snuggled back up against the warm figure beneath her, letting out a soft sigh as her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt, ignoring her headache as she tried to drift back to sleep.

The body beneath her shifted, and Emma blinked her eyes open, feeling a little disoriented as she rubbed them. She squinted, letting out a yelp, her eyes widening when she registered the situation, panicking when she realized she had been asleep with  
her flimsy nightgown bunched up around her thighs, on top of Finn Hudson.

Finn smiled in his sleep, with one arm protectively wrapped around her waist. Shifting in his sleep, his free fingers settled lazily around one of her legs.

She squirmed in his grasp, her heart rate accelerating as her eyes flew around the room, noticing her clothes discarded aimlessly on the floor. "Fuck," she muttered, letting the uncustomary word slip between her lips as she began to hyperventilate. She shoved Finn's hand away from her leg, pulling her nightgown back into place. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"What?" he mumbled, wincing a little as her squirming motions jabbed him in the stomach. "Oh, crap," he breathed, noticing the light pouring in her bedroom. "What time is it?"

She ignored his question, pulling herself away from him as she got off the bed, feeling dizzy as she rushed to pick up her clothes. "What happened last night?" She groaned when she picked her bra off the ground, frightened when she tried to remember, her memory only a fuzzy mess.

"Hey slow down," his throat scratched as he rubbed his eyes and sat up, watching her frantic moments. "You're gonna make yourself sick."

"I'm fine," she assured him, her throat tight as she dumped her clothes into the hamper, rubbing her throbbing temples as she glanced around the room, still feeling panicked. "Gosh, I'm sorry, Finn," she muttered, looking at him as her eyes welled up with tears.  
"God, I am so, so stupid."

"Sorry for what?" He froze in mid ear-scratch. "Oh...you don't think...no, definitely no," he bit back a laugh as he climbed out of bed, looking for his shoes. "You just slept. That's it."

She let out a shuddering breath, a wave of relief washing through her. Her legs grew weak as she sank to the floor, rubbing her head as she caught her breath, feeling hot, sick, miserable and embarrassed.

"Hey it's okay, we've all been there." He frowned, tucking back the bed as neatly as possible. "Well I personally haven't but I've seen it happen to the best people." He picked a stray pillow off the floor. "Do you wanna shower first or change clothes? Do you want something to eat? Or is that just gonna make you sick? I can help." He stopped rambling as her eyes widened.

"Not with the first two things. But food. Or I can leave. Either way."

"You've done more than enough, Finn. You can leave...I'll manage," she assured him, feeling lightheaded as she struggled to her feet, gripping the nightstand for support.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can and all..." he lied, suddenly feeling how strange it was for him to be standing in her bedroom having a conversation with her on a Saturday morning. "But you sort of need your car. Eventually."

"Oh, fuck, I didn't think of that," she moaned, feeling frustrated and upset. "Finn, I'm so sorry," she profusely apologized.

He smiled a little at her cussing, letting his mind wonder what other words she used when kids weren't around. "It's fine, don't worry about it," he waved her apologies away. "But if you don't mind me asking...um, how much of last night do you remember, exactly?"

She let out a sigh, glancing at him with her wide eyes. "I was upset, um, because I saw Carl...at Starbucks, with a woman. And it was silly of me to be so upset, because our marriage really wasn't working out...I just felt so alone, Finn," she sighed, feeling foolish. "I didn't have anything to drink at home. So I went out. I was just gonna have one...but it felt so good to forget that I didn't want to stop...I remember calling you...and coming home with you. But I don't really remember what I said...or anything," she gulped. "Was it really bad?"

He smiled weakly, shaking the sensation of her lips on his neck out of his brain as he struggled to find an answer for her. "You just needed a friend. And maybe a pillow," he shrugged, blushing a little. "Hey, I'm just gonna wait in the other room and you just do what you need to do."

She nodded. "Thank you, Finn. For everything."

She took a hot shower, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and dressing in an uncustomary pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finding Finn sitting out on her couch, flipping aimlessly through a housekeeping magazine.

"How's the stomach?" he looked up, his eyes widening at her outfit in curiosity.

She sat down beside him, leaning back against the plastic covered cushions. "I feel okay right now," she told him, though she still felt a little queasy. "Thanks again, Finn. For doing all this. I'm sorry about everything."

"How can you be sorry if you don't exactly remember what "everything' was?" he grinned a little.

"Hey, at least I'm taking responsibility for my actions," she joked a little, leaning her pounding head back against the throw pillow.

"True," he tossed the magazine back on the table. "But I still expect you to pay me back for your bail money."

She kicked his leg gently, rolling her eyes at him, though for a second her eyes flashed in panic. "You are kidding, right?"

"Wow, you really _don't_ remember anything," he laughed, easing back on the cough. "I guess that's a good thing."

"Oh, gosh, now I'm getting scared," she grimaced, remembering why she could count the times she had been drunk on one hand.

"It's okay," he smiled, a little sadly. "I won't tell."

"Was it that bad?" she prodded in spite of herself, feeling a little nervous.

"I'm probably not the best person to determine what's bad or good," he admitted softly as he kept his eyes on the ceiling. "You said you missed me."

She blushed a little, feeling a little relieved. "Well, that's not untrue," she smiled slightly, her cheeks growing redder.

"You said you felt alone. That I was the only friend you had."

She grimaced a little, pulling her knees to her chest as she watched him in silence, waiting for him to continue.

He took a deep breath, deciding not to debate with himself as he looked back at her. "You kissed me. You said said you had dreamed about...kissing me."

"I-I what?" her mouth dropped open, her face turning a deeper shade of red as her heart began to pound uncomfortably.

"Just a little," he mumbled, feeling his courage deflate from her response. "I mean I stopped you. But you definitely wouldn't have stopped."

"Oh, gosh, Finn...I'm so sorry," she groaned, rubbing her throbbing temples.

"Yeah, I know you are. You don't have to rub it in," he sighed a little. "But is it true? The dream part? Or was that just your best pick up line," he joked awkwardly.

"Finn," she gulped, pulling her knees tighter to her chest, scratching nervously at the denim material. She caught his gaze, and she knew her eyes gave him the answer.

"Wow. Okay then," he said, his mouth twisting into the slightest smile. "Was I good?"

"I plead the fifth," Emma managed to joke weakly. "Don't you think I admitted enough last night?"

"From what you said? Or the fact that you woke up on top of me," he teased, looking down as his fingers brushed across her toes. "Not that I'm complaining or anything. That was better than most of my dreams too."

She wiggled her toes as he touched them gently. "You should be so angry with me right now," she sighed.

"Probably," he nodded. "But I don't give up that easy. And you're kind of a cute drunk."

"I never drink," she stated the obvious, smiling a little. "And last night you found out why. And I want to thank you-for being there when I needed you."

"Yeah, I'm good at that. You know I could be a lot of things, if you wanted..." he ventured, pulling his hands back in his lap as his heart thwopped nervously.

She felt her pulse quicken, glancing at him quickly before looking away. "You're eighteen, Finn...I'm-I'm thirty one," she grimaced a little as she said it out loud. "It's just not..." she sighed, trailing off in frustration.

"Not perfect?" he shrugged. "Not expected? Nothing really good usually is," he smiled a little as he tugged at the hem of her jeans.

"It is kind of tiring to pretend that, you know, there's nothing there..."_ Nothing between us,_ she added to herself, touching the back of his hand lightly.

"Who's pretending?" he asked, threading his fingers between hers.

She looked down at their intertwined hands, making no move to pull away. "I guess no one now," she dared to whisper softly.


	18. Chapter 18

"Who are you and why are you brushing your teeth at four o'clock in the afternoon?" Kurt had frowned curiously after he had poked his head into their shared bathroom.

"Because I care about cavities, and stuff," Finn had blurted, slamming the door shut before he stared in the mirror, mentally psyching himself up with sexy faces and mentally failing about ten seconds later. After standing in front of his closet for twenty minutes and deciding it was completely lame to change clothes, he practically had held his breath as he drove across town, wondering what he was supposed to do and what he was supposed to say. Not realizing the irony that his inability to assess these things had won her heart in the first place. He pushed the doorbell again, wondering if he was supposed to bring something.

She wasn't sure if it could really be called a "date." But there was really no term to use for a get together with one of her students. Who had told his mother that he was going over his best friend's house to play videos games for the afternoon. "Screwed up" might have covered it, but she shook the thought from her mind, instead puckering her lips in the mirror as she applied a careful coat of lipstick, checking her appearance one last time, feeling like a nervous teenage girl. Her stomach flopped as the doorbell rang, and she smoothed her skirt as she walked down the stairs to answer the door.

"Finn," Emma answered, smiling a little awkwardly as she held the door open for him. She touched her hair to make sure her curls were still in place, chewing on her lip as he stepped over the threshold, wondering exactly what was supposed to happen next.

"Wait. You live here? 'Cause I was totally looking for my friend's place. Wow this is awkward," he joked lamely, already ready to show himself out the door.

"Not as awkward as last week when I woke up on top of you," she answered, wondering if it were too soon to make jokes about that. Laughing a little nervously, she led him into the kitchen. "Um, can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"Nah, that's okay." He ran his tongue over his teeth, still tasting the toothpaste as his eyes wandered down her body, from her soft curls to her pink painted toenails. "Unless you want something," his head snapped back up.

"No, no, I'm fine," she assured him, glancing over toward the couch in the adjoining room. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down then?" she offered.

"Actually I'm more of a stander," he joked again, tucking his hands in his pockets as he watched her smile nervously. "Okay, I'm sorry, but this is really weird. And really awkward," he admitted as he sat. "We don't usually have this much trouble talking."

She sat beside him, keeping a fair distance. "It's just different now...we don't have to be as careful, yet we're being more cautious than ever," she smiled a little.

He nodded. "So what do you want to do? Watch something? Talk?" _Kiss? Climb on top of me? _his mind finished the list as his fingers nervously smoothed out the wrinkles in his jeans.

She shrugged, picking at the fringe on one of the throw pillows. "We could watch a movie...or we could just talk." She shrugged again.

"What do you usually do in the afternoons? Well obviously you wouldn't talk unless you were talking to yourself. Which is totally fine I do it all the time..." he rambled.

"Well," she said thoughtfully. "I clean. And, you know, read sometimes...and other things..." she trailed off, feeling embarrassed as she admitted her pathetic life.

"I guess we could watch TV or something," he shrugged, tapping the arm of the couch aimlessly with his fingers. "What do you usually watch?"

"The news," she admitted, laughing a little. "I know, I'm so boring."

"You're anything but boring," he argued. "Sometimes I watch sometimes at ten o'clock with my parents...hey did you see the story last week where that squirrel kept attacking this family every time they tried to leave their house? Not gonna lie. I was a little nervous walking to my car the next morning."

She nodded. "Animals always make me so nervous...but after seeing that story I had to check the locks on my door and windows twice before going to bed," she told him as she smiled.

"Right," he nodded, "'cause there was that other one where the squirrel opened the door to that Burger King and just hopped in. Wow, I guess they do a lot of squirrel stories."

"Or spiders. I remember a story a couple months ago about a spider who laid eggs in this guy's ear," she shuddered, instinctively moving closer to Finn.

"Almost as bad as that guy in Dayton who got bit by his pet spider, died, and then got eaten by his collection of lizards."

"Stop, stop, stop," she ordered, beginning to itch beneath her cardigan. "Maybe the news isn't such a good idea after all."

"What are you...scared?" he grinned a little. "You don't own any lizards. Or is there something you're not telling me?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I can assure you there are no animals in this house," she grinned back, scratching her arm a little. "But the stories just freak me out anyway."

"The worst ones are always the snake in the toilet ones. Which I may or may not have done to my mom when I was nine..."

"My brother put gummy worms in my bed when I was nine, and I wouldn't sleep there for two weeks," she shuddered from the memory.

"My cousin and I used to find dead frogs on the side of the road and light bottle rockets in their mouths. It was pretty awesome. The guts went everywhere," he demonstrated with his hands.

"Finn!" Emma groaned, still itching a little. "That's so gross!"

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago...like two whole years ago," he laughed at the memory and the face she was making.

She smacked him on the arm, wrinkling her nose at him. "Maybe you are too young and immature for me after all," she raised an eyebrow, grinning a little.

"Oh really?" he grinned, rubbing his arm a little. "Well then don't expect me to come over when there's a ladybug crawling on your tv screen, and you're freaking out like a little girl."

"Now you're just being mean," she pouted a little, deliberately scooting away.

"Okay, then silly, have it your way," he said, faking a sigh as he grabbed the remote off the coffee table. "Which station do you watch?"

"Channel eleven," she muttered, pointedly glaring at him as he flipped through the stations.

"Hey don't take it personally," he teased, poking at her nose with the remote. "I would never, ever put an exploding frog in your mailbox."

"Now I'm gonna be nervous next time I check my mailbox," she sighed, fighting a grin.

"Shh, I'm trying to listen," he teased, reaching his finger up to her lips.

"If there are any gross animal stories, we're turning it off," she warned.

"Sounds good to me," he nodded, keeping his gaze on the tv as he reached for her hand. Her heart fluttered a little as she let him take it, her gaze focused on their fingers rather than the TV screen in front of them.

"Well, they're giving away kittens at the shelter...is that too scary to watch?" he turned to look at her. "Just close your eyes if it's too much."

She quickened her breathing, tightening her grip on his hand, teasing him in return. "You might need to hold me."

"Seriously?" he blinked.

She moved a little closer to him, daring to lean her head on his shoulder as she whispered. "Kittens can be very scary."

He bit his lip, taking a shaky breath as waited for his insides to slow down. Squeezing her hand once, he let go and lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and scooting a little closer. "You're such a liar," he grinned, melting back against the cushions.

She laid her head down against his chest, looking up at him with her wide eyes. "I got bit by a cat once. They aren't always as cute as they seem."

"It's okay," he nodded gravely. "I won't bite you."

"I should hope not, Mr. Hudson," she pretended to be appalled, but she let out a sigh, content as she snuggled up against him.

"But the squirrels might..." he grinned, thinking twice before poking her stomach with his fingers as his other hand teased behind her neck.

She let out a squeal, covering her stomach with her arms, trying to let him know just how ticklish she was.

"I wonder what it would feel like to be eaten by lizards," he mused, letting his fingers creep up her stomach and under her arms, tickling harder.

She yelped a little as his hands attacked her, soon bursting into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. "Finn!" she gasped, squirming beneath his touch.

He winced as she jabbed an elbow into his stomach, letting her flop sideways onto the couch as he grabbed her legs and tickled behind her knees.

"Stop, please. Stop, Finn," she struggled for breath as she continued to laugh, attempting to tug her legs from his grasp.

"Okay, wimp." He grinned, sliding his hands up and stopping them on her waist as he waited for her to stop squirming.

Her laughter subsided, giving way into panting as she fought to catch her breath. His own breath ricocheted off her face as he hovered over her, his eyes locking with hers. Suddenly she was very aware of his hands against her waist, his fingers subtly stroking her sides through her blouse. And for a moment, both of their breathing stopped as Finn gently inclined his head toward hers. She panicked for a minute, ready to squirm out of his grasp. But his hands continued to rub her side reassuringly, one hand reaching gently for her hair. She closed her eyes, letting his minty breath wash over her face.

Pausing for just the briefest second, he wondered how anyone could be so beautiful as his fingers trailed down her neck. Until he felt a familiar and unwanted buzz in the pocket of his jeans and groaned. Her eyes blinked open to meet his apologetic frown as he sat up, his back straightening from panic after he had pulled his phone out and saw who was calling. "Sorry," he muttered in embarrassment as he turned away from her. "Hey, mom, what's up?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"He what?" his stomach dropped. "No, well see I was gonna go over there but then he wasn't there so...uh-huh." He swallowed uncomfortably. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. I'll be right there," he mumbled into the receiver, letting the phone drop soundlessly onto the couch cushion as he rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Is everything okay?" Emma whispered, fidgeting a little as she gave him a sideways glance, smoothing her hair behind her ears.

"Uh...not exactly," he stood. "Puck sort of showed up at my house asking if I wanted to hang out."

"And you told your mom you were going over there," Emma quickly pieced everything together, standing as she followed him to the door. "I'm sorry."

"No I'm sorry," he frowned, feeling his ears burn. "I should have had all my bases covered. She'll get over it. I'll just have to think of something. I hate lying but I don't know what else to do," he shrugged, reaching for the door.

She immediately felt guilty, wanting to say something, but feeling too selfish as she thought about losing him. "We'll figure something out," she promised feebly, hating that he already had to go.

He smiled a little. "Thanks for understanding," he offered as he leaned down to peck her lightly on the cheek. "See you at school tomorrow."

Her heart fluttered as she nodded, her throat a little tight as she closed the door, letting out a heavy sigh.

Finn stared at the closed door for a few seconds before turning and walking away, pulling his keys out of his pocket. But halfway to his car, he spun around quickly, feeling his heart rate accelerate as he hurried back up the steps and pounded urgently on the front door before he lost the nerve.

Emma hadn't even had a chance to leave the front hall before she heard the loud knocking on the door. She opened it to reveal a slightly frazzled Finn. "Yes?" she asked, chewing on her lip . "Did you leave something?"

He let out a breath, as if to say something, but he promptly closed his lips as he stepped over the threshold, titling her chin gently toward his face as he dipped his head toward hers. She had no time to register his actions, his lips brushing softly against hers as he stroked the bottom of her chin. She whimpered a little, shock convulsing through her body from the unexpected touch, but she soon felt her breath leave her lips as she melted against him.

He kept his eyes closed for the slightest second as he pulled away. With a hundred things he probably should have said whirling around his brain, he stepped back, exhaled, and walked out of the door they had left hanging open.

She meant to call after him, but he was already gone before she could gain her bearings. She closed the door behind her, still in a stupor as she leaned back against it, letting out a breathy sigh, unable to wipe the goofy grin from her face.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the positive and encouraging feedback. We love knowing what you think :)_

_K&K_


	19. Chapter 19

She didn't even need to look up as the door to her office swung open to know who had entered. She smiled as she finished tucking a stack of papers into her desk. "Hi, Finn," she said as she heard the boy flop into the chair across from her.

"So...what's new?" he asked tentatively, relieved that she had smiled first and not welcomed him with a slap for his boldness yesterday afternoon.

She blushed a little, leaning her chin against her hand as she continued to smile. "I can't say much has happened since yesterday." She blushed again.

"Something happened yesterday?"

She fought the urge to playfully smack him as she did when they were alone. "You know, the usual. You came over my house for a date," she paused, grinning like a fool in spite of herself. "And then you kissed me." She felt her cheeks turn pink.

"Lamest date ever," he apologized, scooting his chair a little closer to her desk. "Next time it'll be better I promise. No surprises. No bad surprises," he corrected himself.

She crossed her legs, leaning forward. "Who said there's gonna be a next time?" she said with a wink.

"Are you flirting with me?" he asked, struggling to keep his pretend shocked face from flipping into a grin. "Cause I really don't think that's appropriate."

She let out a sigh, biting her lip to rein in her smile. "You know, you're right. We're gonna have to make some rules so we're on our best behavior during school hours," she said as seriously as she could manage.

"Rules?" he frowned. "Like what? Don't talk to each other? 'Cause I don't think I can do that."

"No, no, of course you can talk to me," she quickly answered, feeling her stomach drop a little at the thought of his visits stopping. "I just meant that we have to careful, you know, about how we act while we're at school."

"Oh so you mean we have to have a meet-up spot or something?" he grinned. "Yeah I can take care of that," he decided, reminding himself to ask Puck as stealth as possible for some suggestions.

Emma sighed, wondering if she should just drop the subject all together. "That won't be necessary, Finn. I'm fine with you coming over my house if you don't mind that. But what I mean is while we continue to meet in my office at school, we're just gonna have to pretend like you're just a student and I'm just your teacher..."

"And that I'm _just_ kissing you when no one's watching," he added hopefully.

"Precisely," Emma muttered, smiling a little as her stomach involuntarily flopped.

"Great. So no one's watching now," he grinned as he stood and started to walk around to her side of the desk.

"Finn, that's...that's not what I meant," she found she quickly lost her train of thought as he hovered over her.

"Oh. Sorry," he scratched his ear, standing awkwardly next to her desk for a few seconds before he retreated back to his seat. "So I can't kiss you at school? What else can't I do?" he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Well, I think you had a good point when you said I should, you know, stay behind my desk..." She looked down at her legs, biting her lip. " And it'd be best if we kept our touching to a minimal," she added.

He nodded, swallowing at just her suggestion of the word _touching_, wondering if she had thought about some of the things that had bounced around in his head when he was bored in class. "Okay...well am I allowed to tell you you're pretty? Because you are today. Very pretty."

"Finn," she blushed, looking down at her desk before gazing up at him from beneath her lashes. She caved easily, loving his sincerity. "I suppose it's fine...if you don't say it too loudly," she added.

"Okay," he whispered loudly as he smiled. "What else can I do? Or not do? 'Cause the last thing I want to do is break the rules."

"Well, I think it's best if you just try your best to think of me as a friend who can help you with your problems during the day," she explained, proud to have found a simple way to state what she wanted to express.

"A friend?" he raised an eyebrow skeptically, wondering if it was so easy for her to just pretend. "Okay, friend, then I have a problem you can help me with."

She nodded, a little warily, encouraging him to continue.

"Well," he bit his lip, feeling a little guilty for what he was about to say as he watched her wait earnestly. "I fall asleep in class sometimes and I have these dreams. About this girl. Very, um, realistic dreams," he nodded stoically.

She licked her lips, trying to ignore the slight fluttering in her stomach, playing along with Finn's game. "Would you like to talk more about these dreams?"

"No, I don't know if that would be appropriate," he shook his head, biting back a grin before he locked eyes with Emma. "There's a lot of kissing and touching and...other things...that just shouldn't be talked about...in school."

"I see," Emma told him, a serious tone in her voice. "Well, perhaps the best way to handle these dreams would be to work on things outside of school." Her stomach flopped again, and she grinned involuntarily.

"That sounds like just what I need," he nodded. "You don't by any chance have after school hours, do you?"

"Well I do have a busy schedule," she feigned a sigh. "But I'm sure I can squeeze you in. I do sessions at home as well."

"Okay then," he stared ahead blankly, letting his mind go to some very interesting places. "When can you um..." he coughed awkwardly, "squeeze me in?"

Her face flushed crimson, quickly seeing the innuendo she had not intended. "Oh...oh, um. You know, after school today works for me," she stuttered helplessly.

"Are you sure?" he paused, feeling bad for making her uncomfortable. "I have football til five and I'll be all gross and sweaty."

She quickly thought of something else, her breathing accelerating nevertheless. "Well, you can come over around six if you'd like. We can, you know, do dinner..." she offered shyly.

"Do you want me to bring something?"

"Nope. Just yourself and a willing mind ," she grinned, involuntarily blushing again.

"I can do that," he smiled, jumping a little as he heard a tap on the glass of her door.

"I think you're wanted elsewhere," Emma sighed, her pulse pounding faster from the interruption. She nodded toward Puck, looking impatient as he peered through the glass. "I'll see you tonight."

* * *

"Okay, so I know I said six," he apologized as he stepped into the doorway, dropping his duffel on the floor beside him. "But Coach tacked on an hour. So then I tried to use my phone so I ended up doing laps until they shut the lights off to the stadium. So I just came right over." He swiped at the sweat still dripping down his forehead with his arm and felt his stomach grumble.

Emma grimaced slightly as Finn dragged his sweaty body through her immaculate house. "It's okay," she assured him with a small smile, wrinkling her nose a little as the smell of sweat assaulted it. "Do you, um, want to clean up a little before dinner?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound rude.

"Yeah, I should probably wash my hands or something," he offered, turning towards the sink in the kitchen.

"And, you know, if you'd like to shower, or anything," she brushed her hair back a little nervously, looking at Finn's sweat stained t-shirt.

"Would that help?" He looked down at his clothes, pinching his shirt between his fingers and sniffing it.

"Well, I mean, only if you want to," she answered quickly. "Dinner can wait," she assured him.

"Ok, I guess that would help. Do you have...stuff...I can use?"

"Of course," she told him, smiling as she led him down the hall toward the bathroom.

"I, uh, definitely remember where it is but thanks anyway," he said, feeling his cheeks redden a little as he remember what happened the last time he had followed her down the hallway. "I'll try to hurry. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry."

"Really, it's fine, Finn. Take your time...just let me know if you need anything," she told him, giving him a small smile.

"Well a towel would help," he mumbled as he poked his head in the bathroom door awkwardly.

She stepped into the bathroom, pointing to a wicker basket filled with a pile of neatly folded towels. "All of those are clean," she told him. She pulled away the curtain to reveal the pristine interior of her shower. "And soap and shampoo are right here...is there anything else you'll need?"

He smiled a little at her motions, debating to ask her for a kiss. "Nope I don't think so. Thanks."

Finn closed the door behind her, undressing and hanging his clothes on the door knob. Usually a shower didn't take him too long, but his mind seemed to be more intent on the image of Emma showering in the very same space every day than actually getting himself clean. Eventually he turned off the water and grabbed a towel, and after staring at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, poking and frowning a little at his chest and stomach, his eyes diverted to the drawers below the sink. He felt a tug of guilt as he pulled open the first one, his hands sifting cautiously through the stacks of neatly arranged stacks of soaps and lotions and unopened packages of toothbrushes, not sure what he was looking to find exactly.

Five minutes later, he had moved past her makeup drawer, past the medicine cabinet, and past the obvious girl things that made him blush a little, and he was grabbing for the small white wooden box that sat on top of the sink. He sat down on the toilet, the towel wrapped around his waist as he rifled through it, sniffing curiously as he sprayed a little of her perfume on his wrist. He frowned a little as he snapped open the small velvet box where her engagement ring now resided, suddenly feeling how very wrong it was for him to be going through her stuff. Setting the box back in its place, his eyes widened when he realized that he had left his bag and his change of clothes by the door. He also wondered how nonchalantly he could wander through her condo in a towel.

"Emma?" he called tentatively, poking his head out of the bathroom door as his held the towel tight around his waist. "Hello?"

She hurried down the hall at the call of her name, blushing when she saw Finn's dripping head hanging out of the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Not exactly. I left my bag by the front door. With my clothes in it."

"Oh, um, let me go grab it for you," she muttered, quickly hurrying toward the front door, grimacing a little as she picked up the filthy bag. She emerged from the hall, handing Finn the bag as he disappeared back into the steamy bathroom.

He changed quickly, shoving his dirty clothes back into his bag as he looked around, wondering where on earth to put his towel, as there was no trace of anything ever having been used or dirtied in the clean space. After privately debating for a few seconds whether she counted the exact the number of towels she owned, he shoved it into the bag with his shoes and socks, zipping it up and promising he'd return it once he'd washed it. He frowned at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, noticing he had missed a button and sliding his fingers through his hair a few times before wandering back into the kitchen.

Emma smiled as she heard him step into the kitchen, the sweet smell of her body wash entering with him. "Ready to eat?" she asked, answering by him stomach grumbling loudly.

"I think so if I pass the clean test," he joked as he looked down at his stomach, grimacing a little as held his arm up to sniff at his sleeve. "I smell like a girl."

"And there's something wrong with that?" she teased as she sat down, motioning for him to join her as she scooped some steaming vegetable lasagna onto his plate.

* * *

"Do you need some help cleaning up?" he offered when they had finished eating, stacking his silverware on his plate as he watched her buzz back and forth to the sink.

"There's not much left to do," she assured him as she finished loading the dishwasher. "You can wipe the table off for me, and then I think that's it," she told him, handing him a clean dish rag.

"Sure," he nodded, studying it curiously in his hand for a second before taking a few awkward swipes at his side of the table, the only side with crumbs. "Am I doing this right?"

She laughed a little at his hesitance, as he strove to please her. She walked over to him, prying the rag from his hand and instead placing her own hand in his grasp. "You're doing great." She placed the rag back into the sink, leading Finn into the living room.

"Where are we going?...Do you wanna watch the news again?" he swallowed nervously as she led him to sit down on the couch, watching her very quickly bridge the divide between them as she scooted her hips against his.

"Relax, Finn," she told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, her words sounding bolder than she felt.

"I am relaxed," he told himself unconvincingly as he leaned back and tucked his arm around her waist. _Relaxed and clueless, _he thought to himself.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "You smell like my perfume," she giggled a little before giving him a curious look.

"Well that's awkward." He pinched at his shirt and smelled it before grinning a little as he brushed her hair back and sniffed behind her ear. "Nope, I don't think it's the same. Mine's definitely better," he joked before placing a soft kiss where his nose had been.

Her breath caught as his lips gently touched her skin. She closed her eyes as she sighed against him, scooting closer.

He smiled as he felt her relax. Deciding he should just quit football all together for a much better after school activity, he placed another small, sweet kiss on her neck as his arm tightened around her.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" she asked, lifting her neck so he had better access to her skin, letting out a content sigh as his lips continued to dance softly against the front of her neck.

"Besides this?" he mumbled, willing himself to stay slow when his hand began to wander a little too enthusiastically down her leg. "Not really."

She pressed her lips against his jaw, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck. "I'm glad you're here," she smiled, for once not feeling so alone.

"Well thanks for seeing me on such short notice," he grinned a little, remember their conversation from earlier in the day. "

"Well, you know, I did promise to squeeze you in," her cheeks reddened as she lightly kissed the corner of his mouth. "So I guess we should try to handle these dreams you've been having..."

"I don't know...I think you're handling them pretty well right now," he admitted.

"You think so?" she raised an eyebrow, this time planting a kiss against his lips.

"Yes," he smiled, his eyes widening a little from her boldness. "They were dumb anyway. This is much better."

"Well your dreams must be pretty lame then because we really aren't doing much," she teased him, laughing a little as she dared to kiss him again.

**"**They're not lame..." he mumbled between their lips as he took the lead, his nose bumping against hers periodically as his kisses grew clumsier and more urgent and his hands crept into her hair.

"Oh really?" she continued her teasing, kissing the tip of his nose lightly before bringing her lips back down to his. "Why don't you tell me so I can be the judge of that?"

"Well there are a lot," he admitted, waiting for his heart to slow down as she prodded him with a grin. "There's like a whole catalog. You know, 'cause my brain has sort of had a while since we became friends to get...creative and stuff."

"Creative?" she encouraged him, her breath hot against his ear as she placed a gentle kiss there.

"Okay," he swallowed, scooting away from her a little as he grabbed a throw pillow and set it on his lap as nonchalantly as he could. "I'll tell you. But you can't laugh or anything."

She glanced from the pillow, then back to his face, blushing a little, careful to say nothing. Instead, she leant her head against his shoulder. "I promise."

"Ok, well it's mainly just kissing...sometimes, just sleeping..." Finn smiled a little, "sometimes, other stuff," he admitted, looking down at the pillow in his lap. "Just the scenery changes."

"Like where?" she asked curiously, bringing her hand to his neck as she played with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Like your office. And my bedroom," he started off slowly as his mind flashed over his past few months of sleep. "And your bedroom. My car, your car," he continued, feeling a little relief wash over him as his confessions spilled out. "The auditorium, the locker room, on the bleachers, underneath the bleachers, the park, the post office, the car wash..." he trailed off, suddenly distracted by the memory of his car wash dream.

"The post office?" she frowned a little, the list running through her head as she began to wonder just how much Finn dreamed about her.

"Well that technically was a day dream. I got bored standing in line. You were sitting on a stack of Pottery Barn catalogs," he recalled, his eyes wandering into space at the memory.

"And then what did I do?" she laughed a little, intrigued by his fantasies.

"I don't know," he frowned. "They called my number."

She let out a sigh, snuggling contently against him as she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

"We did other stuff too you know," he said softly, kissing the top of her head. "We went on trips. The beach. Other cities. Camping. It was nice. No one cared about my age."

"Camping?" she wrinkled her nose incredulously.

"Yeah camping. You wouldn't leave the tent because of the bugs. Not that I was complaining or anything."

"I've never never been camping in my life," her nose twitched again as she thought about sleeping in the wildness with only the protection of a flimsy tent. "And nor do I plan to."

"It's okay; it's just a dream," he brushed it off. "Kind of like right now," he grinned a little, lifting her hand and kissing her fingers.

"Maybe camping wouldn't be so bad with you," she muttered, closing her eyes as she shivered a little from his touch.

"It really wouldn't. Just you, me, and the squirrels."

"Oh, you stop," she smacked his cheek lightly.

"Well...I think I do have stop," he muttered, hugging her a little tighter as he looked at the clock on her wall. "My parents are gonna start wondering where I am."

Her stomach dropped, trying to hide her disappointment as she scooted reluctantly away from his warm body. "Thanks for coming over," she sighed, giving him a small smile. "I had fun tonight."

"Me too," he nodded, setting her pillow back in the crook of the couch. "Thanks for the food and the shower. And the kisses," he added, leaning over to steal one more from her.

She cupped his cheek, prolonging the moment before he moved away as she kept her

lips pressed against his. "I'll see you tomorrow, Finn."

"Or tonight. At the post office," he teased as he stood.

"You're so silly," she grinned at him, standing as well. "Don't forget your bag."

"Oh I won't," he laughed a little as he slung it over his shoulder. "I'm worried you'll toss it in the dumpster if I leave my smelly clothes here."

"You're gonna have a lot more to worry about than me throwing your clothes away if you don't leave soon," she sighed, checking the time. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a final kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

"Finn," she smiled as she opened the door, looking a little skeptically at the huge bag slung over his shoulder. "Did you just come from practice?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, glancing down at his bag as if he just remembered it was there. "Uhhh, yeah," he smiled down at her, leaving his bag by the door before placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

She smiled as well, leading him into the living room. "I didn't know you had practice on Saturdays." He scratched his head again, saying nothing as they sat down on the couch. "Anyway, how was the rest of your week?" she asked brightly as she snuggled up against him.

"Same since we talked last night," he laughed a little, glancing around the room and wondering how he could move the furniture. "You should probably change," he noted, poking at her skirt with a finger.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she frowned, looking down at her pale pink blouse and floral print skirt.

"Nothing. You're just dressed like you're going somewhere. Are you...going somewhere?"

"Of course not, silly," she assured him, kissing the tip of his nose. "You know I always dress like this..." she raised her eyebrow as she looked at him curiously.

He shifted nervously as he played with her fingers. "Well I just want you to be comfortable around me."

She let out a sigh, looking down at their hands. "Well if it makes you more comfortable I guess I'll go change," she told him, giving him a small small as she ruffled his hair.

"You should," he blurted, a little too eagerly. "You know, whatever you wear at night...to be comfortable," he corrected himself as her eyes widened. "And I can wait down here. Obviously," he rambled as he felt his cheeks redden.

"You're so silly," she sighed, but she stood, giving him a lingering smile as she disappeared down the hall.

"Take your time," he called after her, jumping up from the couch as he kicked off his shoes. Starting with the coffee table, he began moving all her furniture against the walls, careful not to scrape the paint or scratch any wood. It took a few seconds for the couch to budge, and he wondered what he would say if she walked in at that moment. Rushing over to the door, he unzipped his giant duffel, pulling out the unopened box and wondering if he should have paid more attention in boy scouts.

Emma stepped into her closet, chewing on her lip as she glanced at the rows of clothes, a little unsure what Finn was getting at. She put on her only pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, feeling a little self conscious as she stepped into the living room, still looking down at her unlikely attire. "You're lucky, these are the only pair of sweatpan-" she stopped short as her eyes fell on a tent set up in the middle of her living room, her jaw dropping open as she glanced over at Finn.

"Okay, don't...panic," he held out his arms, suddenly regretting his plan when he saw her expression. "I got it for my twelfth birthday and never used it...so it's brand new, clean, never been outside on the ground or anything," he smiled weakly. "I don't even have to stay. You just said...you just said you'd never been camping and I thought that was a shame."

Her heart melted a little from his sweetness, and she dared a smile as she curiously approached the tent, poking her head inside the flap.

"I can move everything back," he offered, still feeling a little nervous as he watched her.

"It's okay," she told him, giggling a little as she stepped inside, the bottom of the tent crunching beneath her feet. "Well are you coming in or not?" she laughed as she sat down on one of the sleeping bags Finn had placed inside.

"Hold on," he smiled, running back into her bedroom and grabbing all of her pillows off the bed.

"This makes the experience so authentic," she laughed again, peeking out from behind one of her pillows as he stepped inside.

"Yeah," he laughed, sitting cross-legged across from her. "Only with electricity and plumbing."

She scooted closer to him, pushing away a mountain of pillows so she could cuddle up against him. "This is kind of fun," she admitted.

"Yeah, sorry," he frowned. "I guess I should have brought some camping activities or something. I'm not a pro at this."

"We could tell scary stories," she suggested.

"We could," he nodded, reaching over to zip up the tent flap. "But you should probably get in your sleeping bag first in case you need to hide or something."

She giggled again, slipping into the sleeping bag, letting out a small gasp when something furry brushed against her leg. She reached beneath the zipper, pulling out a stuffed grey squirrel. "Finn!" she shrieked, tossing the stuffed animal across the tent.

"What? Hey, you're gonna hurt him," he laughed, reaching over to pick up the squirrel.

"It just startled me," she said quietly, as Finn held the harmless toy.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was funny," he frowned, setting it next to her head on the pillow.

She patted its head, looking up a Finn. "You just might need to hold me tonight when I have bad dreams," she teased him.

"Oh...no," he shook his head at the floor, blushing a little. "I'm not staying. This is just for you."

She bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed by her assumption. "You're gonna leave me all by myself in a dark tent?" she widened her eyes at him. "With that?" she pointed toward the stuffed squirrel.

"I guess I can't do that," Finn grinned. "And he can sleep in the trunk of my car or something, so don't worry."

"Good, I wouldn't want to wake up with a squirrel on my face," she laughed, smiling up at him.

"Sure...just um, hold on for a second," he started to stand, his head hitting the top of the tent awkward as he crouched over and unzipped the flap. "I'll be right back." Grabbing the squirrel, he stepped out into the living room. "Do you...um, need anything before you go to sleep?"

She shook her head, snuggling deeper into the sleeping bag. "Hurry back."

He looked around the room nervously for a few seconds, waiting for his head to stop spinning from the realization of what he thought was happening and his best guess at what she thought was going to happen. _Sleep_, his mind corrected his outlandish thoughts. _Sleep is what's going to happen. Don't be such a perv_.

Dropping the stuffed squirrel, he stepped over to the wall and flipped off the light switch, debating for a few seconds before before he unzipped his jeans, stepping out of them as silently as possible and draping them over the back of the couch in the dark. Starting to lift his t-shirt over his head, he decided that was too much, so he tugged it down again and walked over to climb into the tent.

"Where are you?" he asked, not realizing how dark it would be inside. "I don't want to step on your head."

"I'm right here," she whispered, wiggling a little a he found his way to his own sleeping bag.

"You don't have to whisper," he whispered back, grinning in the dark as grabbed a stray pillow and climbed into his sleeping bag. "Nobody can hear us."

"Alright," she yelled, laughing a little as he situated himself. "I'll be loud then."

"I'm right here," she whispered, wiggling a little a he found his way to his own sleeping bag.

"You don't have to whisper," he whispered back, grinning in the dark as grabbed a stray pillow and climbed into his sleeping bag. "Nobody can hear us."

"Alright," she yelled, laughing a little as he situated himself. "I'll be loud then."

"Thanks, that was right in my ear," he groaned, reaching blindly in front of him until his palm landed on her face, feeling out her features as though he were blind. "Oh hi, there you are."

She lowered his hand away from her face, kissing his fingers gently before lacing her fingers through his and scooting closer to him.

"So I probably should have waited a little longer to set this up..." he apologized, feeling his heart pound from nerves as he felt her move closer to him. "It's only 8:30 on a Saturday and I doubt you go to bed at 8:30 on a Saturday unless you're sick or something," he rambled, "and now we have nothing to do..."

"It's fine, Finn." She reached for his face, meaning to kiss his cheek, but her lips landed on his mouth instead. She pulled away after a moment. "It's perfect."

"Perfect until it caves in on us in the middle of the night," he mumbled, his own lips scavenging for hers and finding her chin instead. "The directions were too confusing so I improvised," he smiled as his hand settled on her hip through the material of her sleep bag, gently tugging her a little closer as they settled into a few tentative kisses, slow and warm.

"Well, that will certainly be a mood killer," she laughed against his lips, wiggling in the confines of her sleeping bag. "So I guess we'd better make the best of our time."

"Agreed," Finn muttered, planting soft kisses down her neck. He wondered if she could feel his hands shaking as his fingers trailed down her smooth arms, and he grinned a little at the goosebumps he left behind.

"Perfect..." she muttered again, scooting closer, realizing how ridiculous it was to try to move while still in her sleeping bag.

"You're perfect," he announced, pulling her even tighter against him, feeling a little emboldened by the fact that his sleeping bag hid his body's reaction to their increasingly urgent kisses.

She tried to move closer to him, but the material of her sleeping bag slid against his. She felt like a caterpillar in a cartoon, her movements limited as she squirmed. "Oh forget this," she sighed, a little frustrated as she unzipped her sleeping bag, wriggling on top of his stomach and relishing the freedom of her legs as she straddled his stomach, resting her head against his chest as she smiled, snuggling up against him.

"Um, hi there," he blinked, running his fingers over the back of her head protectively as she squirmed to make herself comfortable on top of him. "What are you doing?"

"Well, right now I'm about to kiss you again," she blushed a little, glad he couldn't see in the darkness. She brought her lips back to his, kissing him a little more enthusiastically than before.

He wasn't sure whether it was her words or the motion of her tongue that kept his brain from being able to come up with a coherent answer for her. Or kept his hands from behaving as they slid south, learning the curves of her body as they moved past her hips and toward her butt.

"Mhmm, Finn," she moaned, instinctively beginning to move her hips against his . She kissed along the edge of his jaw before returning to his lips, moving her body more urgently against his.

Finn squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to bulldoze a couple postal employees in his head as his hands groped blindly for the zipper to the sleeping bag. "Get in," he panted. "Get in now."

She didn't protest, realizing for the first time that he wasn't wearing pants as she positioned herself back on top of him, kicking her own pants off which had already slid halfway down her thighs.

He didn't bother to zip the sleeping bag back up. It already felt like a hundred degrees in the small, black space as she climbed back on to him, their chests rising and falling against each other silently as his hands slid up inside the back of her t-shirt and the dizzying progress of the last few minutes started to feel a little overwhelming to him.

She shivered a little, pulling her lips away from his for a moment as she caught her breath, her head spinning a little as she tried to register exactly what was taking place. His hands were already under her shirt, one caressing the side of her stomach while the other danced dangerously close to the hinge of her bra. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapid breathing.

"Are you okay?" he asked, very softly, his palm falling flat against her back as he felt her shake just the slightest bit. He craned his neck up a little, kissing her forehead as she hovered over him.

She nodded against his chest, letting his lips find hers once again. She gently pushed his hand away from her bra, not quite ready to handle that.

He frowned a little at her motions, tugging his lips away from her kisses, which suddenly tasted unfamiliar and almost desperate. 'I'm sorry,' he swallowed, pulling his hands out from underneath her shirt. 'I'm really sorry.'

"No, don't be sorry, Finn," she gulped, suddenly feeling vulnerable and self conscious. "It's just...it's just that sometimes I have to take these kind of things, you know, sort of slowly..." she tucked her head beneath his chin, feeling her cheeks turn red.

"No, that's not what I mean," he offered. "I mean I'm sorry for all this. I don't want you to think that I planned this and stuff...thinking that you'd...that's we'd..." he struggled to find the appropriate words as he let his arms fall to his sides. "This is _not _camping."

"No, no, of course not...I didn't assume..._that,_" she quickly assured him. "And I know you didn't either." She took a breath. She let her body relax against his, closing her eyes. "I just like being here with you."

"I like you being with me too," he said, gulping a little as he shifted underneath her. "But I think you need to be here with me _with_ pants on...right now, at least. If you don't mind."

She pulled away from him, her bare legs brushing against his as she fumbled for her pants, tugging them back up to her waist. "Sorry about..." she muttered. "It just got really hot really fast..." she blindly felt around the tent, trying to find her discarded sleeping bag.

"Yes, yes it did," he nodded, reaching down to unzip the rest of his sleeping bag and spreading it out with his feet. "Hey, where are you going?" he reached around blindly until his fingers found her ankle and tugged her back playfully towards him.

"I think..." he kissed her quickly, scooting his head back a little to give her more room on the pillow. "I can control myself. As long as you don't, you know..._climb_ on top of me or anything," he grinned, looping an arm underneath her.

"I think I can manage to restrain myself," she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You just have to be good too."

"I'm always good. I didn't even want to stay until you seduced me," he argued between kisses.

She bit gently at his lower lip. "So this is all my fault now?"

"Sort of," he smiled, reaching over to grab her sleeping bag and draping it over both of them. "You seduced me by changing into your sexy clothes. I really didn't stand a chance."

"Sexy?" she said doubtfully. "I wear less clothing to school," she laughed, kissing his neck lightly.

"Exactly. Which is how we got here in the first place," he stared up in the dark as his hands slid around her stomach. "Well not here, like, in-a-tent here. You know what I mean."

"Oh? So you only want me for my looks?" she teased him.

"I only want you because you're the only person I want to talk to when I lie down at night," he answered truthfully as his fingers circled a small patch of her skin.

"I could talk to you for hours," she smiled up at him, pecking his nose lightly.

"What do you want to talk about?"

She shrugged in the darkness, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly the roof of the tent caved in.

"Finn!" she shrieked.

"We could talk about how camping is overrated," he suggested as he reached in the dark to unzip their escape.


End file.
